The Perpetual Pull
by BettyBest2
Summary: The Goddess Clan is hell-bent on making sure a Prophecy involving the Demon Prince never comes to pass even if that means murdering their Deity and turning their Princess into a submissive slave. Their Princess however escapes and finds help on her journey, one day running into a reckless demon who's story seems twine with hers through distance and time.
1. Chapter 1

~Prologue~

The Goddess Clove finds herself in a new position for herself tangled with another.

Her evening travel to Britannia had turned into one of fun and games with her fellow Goddesses as they all celebrated the unchallenged peace over the lands. The lengthy blond haired green eyed Goddess had managed to attain a few of the wines sweetened with fruits of all sorts. This had amplified the enjoyment of the night infinitely. It also made her reasoning near non existent.

She vaguely recalls wandering off on her own and a handsome male sweeping her off her feet. The tangle of her thoughts and the thrum through her blood made his words, his touch, his scent, and overall presence impactful in the Goddess' addled mind. Somehow his body was above hers in a secluded clearing, filling the space between her thighs in ways that had her writhing towards an almost painful release. Over and over the male took her until she was thoroughly filled with his seed, utterly spent from gratification, her body marked in places she never thought one would touch before. And then he left while she slept in the night.

And morning arrives. Then midday. Clove awakens then with only the vague recollection of a pleasurable night spent with a man she can't recall. The ache in her body tells her this as she stands on legs as wobbly as jelly. She's not worried however as Goddesses aren't above staying within their own race in seek of pleasure. So after straightening her ruined pastel dress as best as she can, Clove heads back up to the Celestial Realm to resume her duties.

Months pass and she forgets about the experience for the most part in her task as a Battle Goddess. Despite there bring peace, she still likes to keep her skills sharp. However, something has been hindering her training. Unexplainable exhaustion makes it near impossible for the green eyed Goddess to stay on her feet at times. Sore joints make nimble movements agonizing. And her normal diet has dwindled.

Only when she is cornered by a Goddess of Life and thoroughly examined does she discover the reasoning behind her sudden decline in ability. Clove is expecting. Surprise floods her veins more reckless than a waterfall as she stares with wide green eyes.

"A baby?" Her voice is barely there as she sits atop a roof in the Celestial Realm overlooking the white cloudy plane. She remembers her time with the mysterious man, but hadn't thought much would come of it. Apparently now she'll be bringing a new boy or girl among the Goddesses. A crooked grin stretches across her face as her hand slides over her subtly swollen stomach.

But then two voices pass below her whispering heatedly, as if their words hold valuable merit; classic gossip. But Clove listens anyway as a breeze sweeps by swaying her locks and feathers, feeling as if nothing can bring her down.

"Did you hear about the Prophecy?" The woman implores.

"Yes! It's been spreading like wild fire. I can't believe a Demon borne of a Goddess is meant to bring about the ruination of our race…" The make responds somberly.

Clove perks at this recalling vaguely of hearing the same herself, but had brushed it off. Now her eyebrows draw down in consideration.

"But how can that be?' The woman demands desperate. "A demon born from a Goddess? Wouldn't that be a mixed breed?"

"Likely so," the male ponders, "But when we breed with humans they always become full Goddesses, because we're more powerful than they. So if the same were to happen with one of us…" He trails off and the atmosphere becomes piercing with its frigid drop.

"Alright. Okay. So we obviously shouldn't mate with demons…" The woman attempts to nervously laugh off as they both begin to walk away.

Clove's hand over her belly is now tense as she stares blankly ahead. She was asked who the lucky father was and she'd of course shrugged it off and claimed it to be a gullible human, but... She really has no clue. Shaking her head rapidly to dislodge her wayward thoughts she gives a shaky smile. "I'm worrying over nothing. That's just a rumor anyhow."

Her hand stays tense over her belly.

Time flies and her stomach grows with her baby. Training is abandoned in favor of rest. _"I swear it was stealing all of my energy and hoarding it for itself!"_ she likes to joke to others when they ask of her well being. Of course that question always seems to be followed by the one about the identity of farther. She reasons that everyone is paranoid about the rumor and she isn't the only Goddess who's pregnant that's asked this. She's the only one who can't give a straight answer though.

Eventually the questions and watchful eyes get to the blond and she winds up traveling to Britannia in the heat of early summer. Not exactly wise when she's extremely close to giving birth, but the Goddess would much rather go at it alone than with the suspicious stares of her clan. And honestly it doesn't take long. In fact it hits her rather suddenly as she's resting near a lake cooled by the breeze coming off of it.

The pain is crippling, more than excruciating as she finds a place to lay in preparation. Alone she bears down in synch with her instincts for hours, experiencing a battle more bloody and agonizing than what she's gone through on the field. By morning the next day she gives birth to a boy with beautiful blond hair that shines golden in the morning sun.

His eyes are a soul leeching black with a matching smudge of a mark over his right eyebrow.

Clove is stricken as she stares at her son, a pure demon, that wails for the love and care of his mother... Something she cannot give him.

Clove's hands tremble as she holds the babe wriggling and whimpering for food. She gapes at him as her heart pounds, her night of pleasure resulting in this. A demon. The prophesized demon. If her clan was to discover... She takes haggard breaths still exhausted from childbirth and contemplates killing him. Slowly a trembling hand raises over the now flushed baby's face as crackles begin to spark against her palm. _'End him. End him...'_

The boy's black eyes meet hers for a long moment and her heart squeezes. Her palm clenches and the power is doused. She can't kill him with her own hand. Not her only son. Stiffly she edges to her feet not giving the boy another look as she gazes around for the right spot... When she sees it, the place where the sun's rays will grow in intensity over the course of the day, Clove sits the sniffing baby down. Then she steels herself and abandons him to his eventual fate, returning to the Celestial Realm weary from her experience. But the knowledge of the fact that the demon meant to bring ruination to the Goddesses is taken care of eases any worry that arises.

By afternoon, the boy is on the brink of death from hunger and dehydration. Until a being with beady black eyes and a thin jagged smile stretched across its face happens upon him. The lesser demon swiftly brings the baby to the Underworld upon recognizing the baby's heritage.

Clove had made a mistake. Being a battle Goddess had made her accustom with the knowledge of strategies and tactics, thinking two steps, no four steps, a million steps ahead of her opponent. And yet she went back to her Realm with no baby after leaving pregnant with one. She was under suspicion before and making such a stupid mistake should have been avoided easily. But now she's being hung by her wrists, bare of clothing, in cold, biting chains in the courtyard of the palace where all sentences for extreme grievances against the Realm are dealt.

She will not make it through this trail.

 _"Where is the demon child!?"_

Her breathing trembles between her lips and tears trickle from her eyes. "He did not make it through childbirth!" She croaks in the silence that follows. Eyes seem to pierce her soul from all around. They know of her lie as well as she does, but she is sure that the baby is dead by now. Positive of it.

Splitting cracks begin to echo across the courtyard as she's whipped relentlessly. Blood springs free of her gashes gleaming in the light of day, straining her pale skin and sagging wings as her body jolts continuously as if overwhelmed by electricity. Clove shrieks as her throat becomes raw with her tears. _"I d-do not lie! He is d-dead! PLEASE!"_

But no one listens as the whip continues to fly. The Goddesses are vibrating with the energy coming from the justice Clove is being given. Her screams and pleading wails slowly, but surely, die out as a thick pool of blood gathers below her body. The moment is clear when the whip cuts through her body for the umpteenth time how limp she moves, how her sounds fall silent. Her green eyes, once vibrant and mischievous fall shut, hollow and bleak. Skin practically flayed from her body, Clove succumbs to her wounds and her heart mercilessly gives its last beat.

There's absolute silence for several moments as the whip is reeled back into a manageable loop.

Then a male with long black hair, a key spectator of Clove's death takes a place a short distance in front of her hanging body. His expression is curled severely. "Have her body fed to a dragon. This one deserved no better than the death of a mongrel." No one objects as his voice rings clear and Goddesses move quickly to take Clove's body from the courtyard. _"Let this be a lesson to you all! Further treachery to our clan will resort to immediate punishment!"_ He just about roars as spittle flies past his lips.

Every Goddess in attendance immediately rises and bows with a noticeable trembles in their bones.

A dark age crawls over them before they even knew it. New laws forbid the females from leaving the Celestial Realm with overall rules they must abide by or risk imprisonment, grueling labor, or whippings. Royals especially must be in accordance of these laws, because there is more to the prophecy that only the archangels and the Demon King himself, who bred the now deceased Goddess Clove, knows of.

~1~

 _'Faster, faster, faster!'_ His lungs struggle valiantly to provide the necessary oxygen to his straining muscles. His legs pump quickly, pushing him harder, _faster_ through the cluster of trees that sprout up all around him, twisting high up like a rustic labyrinth. He manages to weave agilely through them however. The thick crunch of leaves and twigs beneath his worn boots is the only sound apart from his frustrated breathing. Green eyes as deep and unruly as the forest around him narrow viciously at the sharp rustling of shrubbery up ahead and it takes only an instant for the color to seep from his eyes. Like ink bleeding across parchment, darkness takes its place seeming to run from his right eye down his cheek and up over his right eyebrow in a messy swirl.

 _'I need to be faster. I need to become stronger!'_ The exact moment he's just within leaping range of the shuddering bush something darts from it with a howl that scrapes across his ears. Meliodas braces his foot in the ground, rotating smoothly just as a powerful force swipes past his face. Right where he would have been. His mind is blank, clear. He only acts according to instinct as he completes his revolution, raising his left hand towards his sword strapped to his back before tensing his muscles in order to backflip just as a spray of flames sears across the grassy earth.

He can see it clearly now. The creature at least a head longer than he with a lashing tail, four clawed paws, and a nice pair of wings that can carry its hefty weight. The fire spewing from its mouth lined with sharp teeth only hammers home the answer. Before the blond can plan a counterattack though his back slams into bark with such force it quakes throughout his form. He should have paid better attention to where he was jumping, but hindsight is better than foresight he decides bitterly as he drops to the ground that's catching fire rapidly.

His spine seizes up with the sound the dragon makes only this time its coupled with the spinning feel in his skull from the impact. But Meliodas pushes through the sensations with the force of his anger. His legs protest and his spine smarts but he rises to stand as his hand grips his sword to where the handle nearly embeds into his palm. This dragon is just an obstacle, it's flames just a test. He'll go through anything, cut through anyone to get to where he needs to be. He refuses to be a pathetic little thing any longer. Like hell is he going to sit back and let others fight his battles anymore.

"I'll end you," The words are rough with the smog that sears down his throat, blazing over the dragon's vicious cries as it prepares to lunge. Not a second trickles by before the beast makes its move, speeding through the air as if provoked by the demon's words. Meliodas doesn't hesitate, doesn't even allow a thought to slip into his mind. He only moves, reacts as the roaring of flames fills his ears.

Blood hisses in the dancing flames all around.

~.~.~

 _"She must be found at all costs! Search every nook and cranny if you must!"_

Feet pound and rush about in haste at the thunderous order, sounding so loud and vicious to the girl tucked away she winds up pitching forward with a jolt and a choked gasp, her hands scuffing along the cold stones beneath her. But she truly has nothing to fear, as her wide blue eyes swivel around in terror, at least for now. Her breathing sounds deafening in her ears, stuttering and rapid as various shouts continue on the floor above her, but she can't let fear stop her now. She's gotten this far.

Rising to stand as another thump above her rumbles ominously around her, she steadily scurries forward keeping one hand along the dusty cramped walls. _'I have to keep going. I can't stay here any longer.'_ Her lip aches between her teeth, but her nerves won't allow her to release it forcing a thin trail of blood to stand stark against her pale skin.

This tunnel beneath the castle, she only found upon accident. She can tell it's quite old from the many stones that litter the ground, tripping her up and causing her to squeak each time she's threatened to fall forward once more. Her plan of escape was a flimsy one and one she hadn't thought she'd get this far into. The dress she wears is the most unassuming she owns, short along her calves, and thin against her arms but it still feels as if she's drenched in sweat and weighed down by layers of her usual uniform.

 _"We can't let her get away! FIND HER!"_

The voices are too close. She's not moving fast enough. Heart now in her throat, her feet begin to stumble in a hindering sprint ahead. The darkness that paints the walls and cloaks the area makes it impossible for her to not wind up with several cuts and bruises more often than not. _But she must succeed._ "I won't let them use me." She pants, nearly wheezing as sweat trickles down her forehead plastering her silver bangs to her forehead. "I don't want… this life."

So she presses onward until the voices finally begin to fade away. The sound of her feet stumbling in blindness, her breathing restless in fright, and the stale damp air all around her are her only company for what begins to feel like hours. Step, step, stumble, fall. Push herself up and then try again. The process repeats over and over, but she keeps her eyes forward, her mind focused on what lies outside of these walls. Once free no one will dictate her every move any longer. No more painted smiles and faux pleasantries. No more routines that start from sun up to sundown. No more severe rules that leave her crippled in heartbreak. She'll finally, _finally_ be able to step outside of the stoney castle grounds. She'll have her dream come true.

A thin outlining up ahead is what swells her spirits and nearly draws her up short. A door. _The door to her freedom._ She slips forward, about to make a mad dash for it—

Scraping scuffles that echo off the walls at an unimaginable speed sound behind her giving her a sickly pallor as she jerkily turns her head to see what could be coming behind her. But there's only darkness entirely blocking her vision. The noise however tells her more than she'd ever wanted to know.

" _Elizabeth! You should already know by now… there's no way out for you!"_

Elizabeth screams with the intensity of a petrified child as she dashes forward, staying up on her feet, with prayers of reaching the door in time. "Please don't let me stay here! _Don't let me stay here!"_ She bumps into the walls, releases gasping breaths as her eyes gather with tears that escape in flowing drops, _but the person continues to keep pace._ Gaining. So close she can almost _feel them_.

And then her hand outstretches and she pushes frantically on the door. _Bang_. Once. _Bang, boom!_ Twice and it opens with a whoosh as she dives forward into the burning sunlight. Fingertips brush against her back scrambling to grab ahold of her dress, but Elizabeth spreads her wings and shoots forward faster than she ever thought she could, having never truly gotten to use the four thin wings upon her back before. The person chasing her is screaming after her and Elizabeth _knows_ she only has seconds to leave this realm.

Or this will all be for nothing.

Not taking in the scenery around her as panic laces her veins too thickly, Elizabeth spies the one thing she needs, the one thing she learned was one of the easiest ways to disappear from this realm: Thick fluffy white clouds, almost boundless in their spread beyond the castle's walls.

 _"Get back here you little wench!"_

The slight doesn't slow her down in the slightest as she angles herself into a freefalling plummet towards the clustered clouds. The wind rushes against her face, forcing her lengthy silver strands back, and making her feel more free than she's ever felt before in her short existence even though she's yet to break away completely. But.. she believes. Even as more voices begin to gather, as the pursuer threatens to close the gap, Elizabeth closes her eyes and lets herself fall.

A chilling burst envelopes her more frosty and invigorating than anything she's ever experienced and then... silence. Calming, and completely vast in its oblivion.

 _'I made it.'_ The thought is a breath a fresh air. _'I'm free.'_

~.~.~

When she first awakens, she feels a smooth, tickling sensation pressing up against her exposed skin from beneath her. She breathes in deeply smelling something moist, fresh and entirely new. Shifting, then scrunching her nose slightly as the sensation beneath her causes her nose to itch, she begins to open her eyes, blinking against an exhaustion that threatens to drag her under once more.

Elizabeth always dreamt about what it would be like to step outside of her home realm. Would there be more color than just the bland whites, the dull greys, and the bleak tones that drift in between? Her clothes carried pale shades of various hues, but they all seemed so muted, so suppressed. She'd look up at the sky and just imagine that… maybe… things could be brighter, softer, and warmer. The ground wouldn't be covered in either stone that bit into you or clouds that held no weight.

But never had she seen anything of the sort before. Only could she hope that such things existed. All she had were the beliefs she held which seemed to falter and weaken as days flew by caged in by those desolate walls.

What swims into her vision now is nothing she could possibly have conjured in her wildest visions, in her vivid hopes, and desperate dreams. Greens, deep, light, vibrant, and rich sprout from every direction she finds herself looking. In all shapes and forms, from the thin strips of tickling stuff beneath her to the bushy like shapes decorated with colors of all variety. Shakily she begins to push herself up, walking shakily closer to anything she can reach. Feeling touching smelling, Elizabeth begins to laugh as pure joy, sheer elation, begins to brim within her, over pouring in the form of tears as she falls to her knees in the softness of the _grass_. "It's grass. It's really grass," She whispers through trembling lips as fresh air swirls around her in a welcoming embrace.

Everything she's always wanted, everything she's always pushed herself towards, is now hers for the taking. And the elated goddess has no clue of where to even begin.

~.~.~

In the first few weeks of her liberation, Elizabeth came to know the world was bigger and far more complicated than she at first assumed. The first thing she absolutely _knew_ she needed to do was find a way to hide her wings. She wasn't too sure, but goddesses among the beings of Britannia were probably very rare, so being discovered would probably lead the hell she had just left behind right back to her. So after wandering through clustered woods, eating various fruits of colors that still seemed to burn her vision, and drinking water from freshwater sources that sparkled in welcome, Elizabeth had come upon her first ever human village.

The people there regarded her in curiosity to say the least. She would like to believe that it was her youthful appearance overall that made the people more welcoming of her as she had tentatively stepped deeper into the area cluttered with buildings with shingled roofs, lined with stalls of all sorts that made her mind dizzy with the sheer possibilities, and ladened with voices and culture she only imagined in her sweetest dreams.

Many offered her clothes of fine quality, jewels worth many riches, breads drizzled in hot tasty butter. Fruits, trinkets, and every kind of object on display at their disposal they tried to push onto her, overwhelming her mind as she'd tried to politely turn down their offers. Something she'd learned from some of the woman of her realm was that things hardly ever come for free. Before her escape, she'd lined the inside of her boots with some of the coins she'd managed to actually _earn_ and she was hoping to use that money for what she actually needed.

"A mage. Is there a mage here that would assist me, please?" She had spoke up past the pushy hands and bartering voices.

Things had gone rather quiet all to suddenly after her words then, but it wasn't too long for her question to go answered.

"This way, dearie."

She had nearly jumped at the voice appearing behind her, it was so abrupt. Elizabeth had faced the speaker of the voice only to find her already walking away expecting the goddess to follow. From what she could tell of the woman, she had seemed perhaps confident. Definitely sure of herself as her raven locks swayed slightly to the sashay of her poised steps. Elizabeth had followed her without pause deep through the village, ignoring all of the curious whispers that arose behind the two.

What came of her decision was one of the most magical experiences she had encountered thus far. Merlin was her name, and she took Elizabeth to her hidden workspace that only so few were allowed to see. The mage traveled quite frequently and only stopped in that particular village because she had a feeling she'd be needed there.

Elizabeth, Merlin told her with a curve to her plump lips, was that reason.

Out of all the things Elizabeth saw and felt in that short time of being in Merlin's company, the pure depth, knowledge, and power within those golden eyes of hers is one thing the goddess will never forget.

Merlin hadn't wanted any money in return for helping with such a simple illusion spell placed upon the goddess, for which Elizabeth was wholeheartedly shocked and grateful to discover. The mage had however placed a perfectly manicured hand upon the young preadolescent's shoulder as she gave Elizabeth one last piece of advice.

"There's an abandoned home not too deep in the woods near the last village I visited. I could take you there, if you wish, and you can find a new start, Elizabeth."

The knowing twinkle in Merlin's eyes had made it easy for her to agree.

~.~.~

A displeased breath hisses through his teeth fleetingly as he stares down at his despicable appearance. Red. A dirty, sticky, dried kind of red is splashed all across his skin from that dragon's merciless death. He defeated it easily, but he'd done it _sloppily_. And that is unacceptable. Turning his eyes back forward to gaze into the forest shaded a more subdued golden hue, he reflects on his state of progress while stomping angrily across foliage.

His entire reason for venturing out of the Underworld was to become stronger, to break free of the pampered life he'd led thus far. He may be a Prince, but he knows exactly who his father is, or rather what his father can do. His father is the most powerful, most terrifying, and most awe inspiring demon Meliodas has ever known. And the life the blond has been given thus far has deterred him from aspiring to such heights. His father can lay waste to entire villages, force his opponents into submission, pilfer whatever he so desires. _His father can do anything._

And Meliodas wants to be just like him. No, he wants to be more. The darkness that tends to swim and swirl and rankle inside of him absolutely demands it to be so. And so Meliodas had decided to leave, without a word of reason. With the sword he'd trained with since he'd learned how to pick one up, and the clothes on his back, he'd set out to better himself no matter what.

Yet here he is. Still making foolish mistakes like the one that's left him covered in dragon's blood, filled with the beast's meat, and the forest aflame a good distance behind him. He knows these are vile acts and a good few demons would be satisfied with such, but…

"I can do better damn it." His fingers curl into fists, slowly, painfully as the tiniest hints of his strength flex just the slightest along his arms.

His failure still presses heavily on his shoulders, but he decides to cast the thoughts of it away for now in favor of cleansing his skin. He can't stand the feel of dried blood chipping away in disgusting flecks for too long. He's pleased to discover, after traveling through the quiet forest of trees that stretch so high up you'd wonder if they touch the sky, they actually begin to space apart a bit more making travel easier and his visual up ahead much clearer to make out. That's when he first notices an old rickety looking well not too far of a stretch ahead. Then a good few paces away from that he sees a little house made of wooden logs covered in old cracked leaves from the slanted roof, to the wrap around porch with steps that lead down.

He shrugs the house off as abandoned and makes for the well in hopes of being able to use the water to clean up just a little. Stepping up to the stone circular shaped well, Meliodas peers down into it and makes out the refreshing image of water, but he can't see much else. Leaning back, he grips the handle in front of him and begins push it in a smooth rotation, watching for a moment as the sturdy rope begins to wind itself back up along the top.

That's about when a girl ambles around the side of the house catching his attention immediately. He'd normally jolt to attention, muscles stiff with readiness for any attack. But… the sight of her causes him to stare in open disbelief as his hand continues to mindlessly turn the handle of the well.

She's slender, not having yet blossomed into the curves of adolescence with smooth porcelain skin, and limber limbs as she moves. Her hair is silver, lengthy and radiant in the afternoon sun as it frames her delicate face still slightly clinging to the youth of childhood. He takes all of this in within a split second from the wide depth of her cerulean gaze right down the the way she moves with a subtle grace. Unbelievably however this isn't what causes him such pause. It's what she holds in her hands as she casually works her way across the ruined yard.

A broom. She's sweeping the leaves on the forest floor _with a broom_.

With furrowed brows he looks over to the side of the house where various yard items lean pathetically, almost in longing of being used. Then he turns to stare at her again, sweeping so… _casually_ as if that's the way things are supposed to go.

 _'What the hell is wrong with this girl?'_ Normally he'd use any opportunity to threaten, harm, or even kill a being. But he can see from this girl's lack of knowhow that she'd be too easy of a target even for him. So just as he finishes turning the handle of the well only to see an empty rope awaiting him— _of course—_ Meliodas feels agitation race along his skin as he huffs. "What the hell are you doing?"

The girl squeaks undignified as he startles her out of her musings causing the dirtied broom to fly out of her hand. Piercing blue eyes land on him as he walks around the well, finding the bucket laying carelessly upon the ground where he picks it up and begins to tie it with the rope. Tugging the rough rope against the handle of the bucket a few times to be sure it's secure, Meliodas turns his moody green gaze back to her doe like stare as he almost angrily begins to lower the bucket back into the well. "Shouldn't you be using a damn rake instead of a broom to clear the leaves? Where have you been? Under a rock?"

A warm breeze passes by sweeping her hair across her face and rustling the leaves she seemed intent on clearing away as she continues to stare at him as if too horrified to find her own tongue. It cause a bit of pride to fill him knowing that even when he's not trying he can strike fear into the hearts of others.

But then she does find her will to speak again just when he's beginning to pull the bucket back up. "I… I didn't know." Her eyes turn down for only a fraction of a second before she's striding towards him in quick steps that match the hurried tempo of worry that's mysteriously crept up within her eyes. The change is so sudden he pauses in his arm's pushing motions just as the sloshing of the bucket filled with water can be heard in his ears.

Shouldn't she be _afraid_ of him?

She's only a step away, enough for him to feel a bit of her heat, and know that she's a bit taller than him. Close enough for him to catch a whiff of her floral like scent even though there's nothing but the death of plants all around, and for him to see that her eyes may as well be a window to her every thought and emotion. She really is worried. But why?

Her hand attempts to bridge a gap between them, but she halts, raising the hairs along his skin as her pink lips part. "Are you hurt? There's so much blood…"

The words cause his spine to straighten out as he narrows his eyes just a smidgen. "I'm fine. I just need to clean up." He turns his back to her, grasping the bucket to get the water that took much longer than he assumed it would.

The sound of her footsteps quickly scurrying away helps ease his shoulders in her retreat. She thought _he_ was hurt. Of all the damn things she could have said. The wood of the aged bucket begins to groan as he clenches it in silent anger. It's good that she left. If she'd said another stupid thing he might have forgotten his reason for not choosing her as a target.

Eyes regaining focus back upon the water before him, Meliodas starts to reach for it only— "No towel."

He's about to curse aloud when a slender hand reaches into the bucket in his hold, a limp pale towel in her hold as she quickly gathers water within it before lifting it out, then squeeze it to wring out the excess water. Meliodas turns to her once again in astonishment only for his entire body to go completely rigid as something travels through him reminiscent to a powerful shock at the feel of her fingers carefully wrapping around his forearm, _at the feel of her touch._

He knows this feeling. He's felt it before, but where? His breathing sticks in his chest more often than not as he stares with wide eyes at the girl who focuses intently on cleaning the skin along his arms, dipping the bloodied towel into the bucket from time to time until she's satisfied with his slightly tanned skin's appearance.

It's only when she speaks does he find his composure once more, reining in the confusion of who she could possibly be instead for regaining control.

"What happened? If the blood isn't yours then whose is it?"

He shouldn't be surprised anymore by her ability to render him momentarily speechless. But still he finds himself blinking at her until she pauses in finishing up with his arms to look up at him. That causes his jaw to clench. "You figured it out, huh?"

Delicately she gathers more water before returning to her position this time reaching up to wipe the towel along his neck. He hopes she doesn't notice the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows. Why is he letting her touch him? Why is this strange girl... intriguing? "Well, you have a sword, so I assume you have to be a swordsman of sorts."

" _Ha!"_ He laughs harshly, filling the air with his bitter contempt. She thinks he's noble? _What a fool_. He finds himself leaning towards her startled visage as his expression turns mocking. His lips twist up to show a bit of his teeth as he sneers. Her hand filled with the weighted wet towel stills against the side of his throat. "You think I'm some kind of good guy? What if I'm the one who did the slaughtering? What would you say then?"

Her body practically radiates tension as her eyes run through a plethora of emotions merely filling him with a sick sort of glee at having finally turned the tables. But then her eyes seem to gain a firm edge as she places her free hand upon his shoulder and returns to wiping at his neck, utterly calm once more. "I would still help. If you wanted to harm me you would have. And… you also helped me here. It would have taken me ages to figure out to use a rake and how to tie the bucket to the rope to get water, so…" Her blue eyes flick up to his causing his throat to lock up around his next breath.

 _"Thank you."_

A sharp jolt washes through him as he inhales raggedly, forcing his eyes open. A dull ceiling appears before his vision, but all he can see are those wide, pure blue eyes filled with an indescribably amount of happiness. Blinking a few times before shaking his head to clear away the image, Meliodas turns to his side to stare out of the single window partially allowing silvery moonlight to stream across the room. Why is he dreaming about that girl? That was _years_ ago. He hadn't seen her since then or even given her a passing thought. And, yet, as he lets his eyes close once more in hopes of getting sleep before he has to return to the Underworld to visit with his father the next morning, he finds himself wondering about her, wondering why it is that he never found out what her name was.


	2. Chapter 2

**~2~**

His dull, chipped ceiling swims into his awareness once again with the arrival of pale sunlight. It tentatively brushes across him, attempting to give a little life to his room, empty of anything but necessities. Deprived of any warmth and welcome. He feels none of this as he shifts to a seated position on the edge of his bed.

He thinks of his duties for the day, knowing that he has to make the journey to the demon realm for business. What specifically, he's not entirely sure of, as he strides with purposeful steps to the thick wooden wardrobe filled with various cloths ranging from some of the finest of the lands to plain simple garments he'd use when trying to blend in. Sifting through for only a moment, Meliodas gathers a regal coat of inky black threaded with the crest of his heritage on the right chest.

Systematically he gets dressed pulling on an undershirt, the coat, and matching pants as he recalls the page that had come to rely his father's message. It was perhaps a week ago. He'd traveled to one of the most unruly and hazardous parts of Britannia known for the mysterious beasts that tended to thrive there. The area was what one would call a death pit of sorts. Filled with overgrown wildlife, poisonous plant life, vicious creatures of all sizes that blend in, stand out, and track you for days on end if need be, this place was practical a world of its own that once you've stepped into it you'd be lucky to find your way out alive. And this was exactly the kind of place Meliodas felt resonated with him somehow.

He'd wanted to use it to train his skills a bit more than he had been for the past century thus far. So at the point when the page found him, Meliodas was in a rather blank state. He'd discovered in the first few years on his own that his ability seemed at its absolute best when he didn't hold back, when he didn't think, and when he simply fought with the deadly flow of his darkness' pulse. So as he'd twisted and danced around snapping jaws and crushing pincers, with the poise and precision of the most lethal demon to come along since his own father, Meliodas had come to a fluid stop. Thunderous crashes had rocked the ground seconds later signalling the creatures deaths as their blood began to pool thickly across the ground. And Meliodas…

He'd stood sharp, his sword thrust to the side of him and against the neck of the male that had threatened to come into the fray. Slowly the blond had turned to face the male, staring down over his shoulder as the page had cowered upon the ground. Meliodas hardly thinks upon it now, but he's sure the look upon his face then had been empty, his mouth set firm, and his eyebrows raised just slightly. But his eyes… His eyes would have said it all.

Looking down now as he adjusts his metallic boots, Meliodas indifferent demeanor shines through as he reaches for his scabbard last. "An urgent message. I'm needed back home, hmm? Well, it couldn't hurt really. Haven't been in a good fifty years." Staring blankly at the barren wasteland that is his living room, Meliodas strides in clean precise steps towards his front door, before swinging the wooden barricade open. A slight shift in his power rolls outward as he steps out of his home surrounded by bland fields and soaring mountains as far as the eye can see.

He's gone before the door can swing closed behind him.

~.~.~

The halls of the castle are still the same. Decorated with the same lengthy tapestries, towering statues, and antique sconces. His eyes pass over every detail as he keeps an even stride through the twisting halls he grew up in, passing by servants that bow, guards that salute, and scantily dressed women who attempt to speak with him. None of them so much as spark his interest of draw his eye as his focus shifts forward once more. His eyelids lower just slightly as he breathes out nice and slowly. "I thought at least something would have changed here while I was gone." If possible his his expression becomes even less animated as his lips move the barest amount. "Maybe… it was just me… who changed."

 _"_ _Meliodas! Big brother!"_

Those words cause his form to still and his muscles to tighten just the slightest. He can hear the frenzied footsteps coming up behind him on the stone floors. Meliodas can almost picture the excited breathing, the arm waving even though he's not turned around to see it. He knows who this must be even though he hasn't seen the boy since he was just learning how to pick up a sword.

A force slams into his side with all the glee of someone running on pure elation. Meliodas was ready for it so he simply moves his arm out of the way to peer down at the boy just shy of his teenage years clinging to his waist. Meliodas can feel the curious eyes that glance against them from time to time but they mean nothing to him. The affection his brother shows him though is different. Lifting a hand to lay upon the head of deep grey hair wild and untamable like his own, Meliodas decides it's an interesting change.

"It's really you." He feels the words vibrate against his chest and blinks. It's at this point when his younger brother pulls back and stares at him with a wide dark _starry eyed_ gaze, that the first born comes to realize just how much he's looked up to.

Pulling his hand back, Meliodas attempts as less of a stiff gaze as he can manage. "Of course, Estarossa. Who else would have the same wild hair as you?"

Estarossa gives a bright grin on the edge of crazed, completely opposite of Meliodas when he was that age. Meliodas turns once again picking up his stride towards the throne room, a silent indicator of Estarossa to keep pace beside him. "So how has your training been going? Has anything of interest happened since my last visit?"

A turn around a corner marked with a pristine suit of armor and Estarossa is quick to jump into his tale. Just as Meliodas knew he would.

"I've risen in strength over the years, brother! I've impressed quite a few knights in father's army already!"

 _'_ _But have you impressed him?'_ Meliodas idly wonders as his brother takes in another breath, puffing out his chest just the slightest in an attempt to emphasize his next words. "I've begun accompanying small platoons on their missions. We've seized lands, taken hostages, and even encountered goddesses we had to fight off."

Meliodas gives Estarossa a side look, debating Estarossa's words for a moment. Then he turns his gaze back forward, missing the younger's hopeful glance. "Goddesses, you say?"

"Yes, they were far more powerful than I imagined and—!"

Meliodas stop abruptly coming to stand in Estarossa's path a few paces away from the throne room doors. His arms fold against his chest as he stares the suddenly befuddled demon down. "How much of this did you actually partake in? Did you try to challenge them on your own or did you work as a team? Did you find a thrill in the near death scenario or were you simply scared shitless? Did you take the easy way…" Meliodas tilts his head as his eyes pierce Estarossa's still form before him. "Or did you risk everything as if it would be your last moments alive?"

He can see the tension in the shorter's neck as he swallows, looking far tinier and simply _young_ in the longcoat he wears with his little sense of pride. "Yes, I-I—"

 _There_ , that hesitation. The split second swivel of his gaze away from Meliodas as he attempts to stand tall. Anything he says now will most likely be riddled with half truths so , Meliodas cuts him off not the slightest bit interested in hearing it. "Hesitation will get you killed, fear will hold you back. If you want to become like—" _Me_ , is hastily swallowed back. "If you want to become stronger you will learn not to give into weakness. You will learn to overcome every obstacle in your path no matter what."

Absorbing the words thoroughly, Estarossa gives him a single firm nod and watches as the elder disappears behind the ornate doors of the throne room.

~.~.~

An arm across his stomach, the other behind his back as he bows. His movements are perfectly precise and absolutely regal. But as he rises to stand straight once more, it's obvious that they're also painfully mechanical. Meliodas stares straight ahead at the King, his father... or what used to be.

The sight before the Prince actually causes his eyebrow to twitch. "You've seen better days." Meliodas concludes his brother doesn't have a good idea of what interesting matters actually are if he left out the fact that their father hardly has a physical form anymore. The King's stature is shrouded in a perpetual shadow that seems to shift and pulse with every breath the leader takes. His form can't truly be made out and the pressure such a massive amount of swelling malevolence he gives off is intimidating. Or it would be if Meliodas was anyone else.

As it stands, Meliodas simply awaits his father's response.

The room fills with a hearty chuckle that bounces off of the high reaching walls. "Is that a joke, my son?"

"I was simply stating a fact." Meliodas responds blandly while focusing straight ahead. He's certain he can feel an air of approval wafting from the ruler for some reason before he continues. "So why is it you're like this? The last time we spoke you were in top shape."

The darkness curls a bit; his father is turning serious. "The goddesses. They casted a curse upon me that's rendered me to this pitiful state."

The weight of the room becomes much heavier with the King's words, but Meliodas hardly notices. His hand at his side twitches, a sign of possible frustration while his eyebrows lower into an impassive expression. "A curse, you say...?"

His father continues as if Meliodas hadn't spoken. "This actually is related to the matter in which I summoned you here."

An edge of something searing begins to form beneath Meliodas' skin. His stoic appearance doesn't change despite the way his words seem to come out sharper, less smooth and drifting from calm. "Estarossa informed me that there have been scuffles. Are we fighting them now? I thought there was an agreement of sorts between our races."

"Yes there is, but it's been wearing thin as of late. You and I both know the goddesses are not as noble as they seem."

"How can I forget?" Meliodas cuts in as a thudding sensation begins to make itself known inside of him. It fuels the grin that begins to take over his visage and the power that begins to radiate from him. "I seem to recall you asking for my firstborn child and not only that, but for them to be bred from the perfect woman, whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean."

"Superior demons, Meliodas. You know damn well what I mean." The King retorts with a viciousness that tears outward, threatening to force his son into submission through pure force of will alone.

But Meliodas remains firm, his lips still curled cruelly but his eyes now wide with a frigid sort of fury. "Right… But the thing that bothers me about the whole thing is... why would you want whatever kid I had to give to them? Some sort of deal to keep peace? Sure…" Meliodas shrugs almost casually as he looks upon his father who appears ready to explode from his place festered around the throne. "But I don't think so. You had just given me my own special curse, don't you remember? You knew how powerful I'd become. Couldn't afford to lose that."

A sort of deep violet smog begins to settle upon the ground spreading outward from Meliodas' seething form. Slowly, but surely, growing in depth as he continues his torrent of words. "You had _me_ , father. You could easily have waged war if you so wished. No… There's something more going on here."

The formless matter that is his father's figure wavers and shifts not a true indication of his intentions, but Meliodas doesn't need anymore than that to get his answer.

A soft chilling laugh forms in Meliodas' chest as the haze upon the ground grows thicker, hotter. "I'm right, aren't I? I may not be able to properly _feel_ anymore, but that only makes being able to read people all the more effortless."

" _It does not matter now, Meliodas!"_ The outburst is enough to make everything in the room quake. "You are the oldest and strongest of my children! That means the weight of responsibility falls upon your shoulders. The goddesses have come to us with a proposal that I find hard to refuse. Therefore you are to do as I ask, and that is to find the goddess that fled from their realm and bring her back here."

Meliodas takes in a slow breath as he closes his eyes. Then he lets everything out , the tension, the anger, the bitter sense of betrayal… It's as if it was never there to begin with. Staring as impassively as he had the moment he entered the room, Meliodas offers a curt nod. "As you wish." Once more he brings an arm across his stomach, and one behind his back as he bows, but unlike before this time holds a distinct lack of respect, but at the same time there's not an ounce of mocking.

It's simply a motion, just like every other thing he does. He turns to leave the room, letting the doors shut behind him and the blackened leaves of the previously flourishing plants beside it to gently flutter to the ground.

~.~.~

 _'_ _The oldest and strongest of my children?'_ A nagging feeling in the back of his mind tells him that there's something more to that statement. His instincts aren't usually wrong, which is why he heads in seek of the nearest nursemaid. Thankfully after going up only a maximum of three floors and traveling down about a dozen halls filled with nothing but doors, dusty paintings, and haggard looking servants he finds one.

Meliodas steps in front of her—the stout woman with black curly hair and a demonic mark that brands her collarbone—instantly gaining her full attention. He hardly has the time or the patience after searching for her to wait for her to bow and give hasty pleasantries, so he simply raises a hand when the woman begins to shift her posture. "I'm looking for the youngest Prince. Could you take me to see him?"

She blinks in surprise, quickly moving to nod her agreement. "Yes, of course, Prince Meliodas."

Ah, everyone knows him still, even though he hardly frequents the castle anymore. Although, it could be from the immense portrait in this very hall with him, Estarossa, and their father he happened to not notice his first stride down this hall. If his suspicions are correct a new one will have to be made soon.

An unassuming door appears before them eventually and the nursemaid is quick to enter, not before offering him a strained smile that practically begs him to wait. He does. And the noises that arise behind the door are actually intriguing to say the least. The woman is clearly attempting to be calm and soothing but from the small explosions that come as answer, her efforts are fruitless.

Moments later, she exits the room in a rush, looking worse than she had before entering and far more out of breath. "Young Zeldris can be pretty... v-volatile. But demonic children tend to be, of course."

Left alone to enter the room all Meliodas does is roll the name around in his mind for a moment. _'_ _Zeldris…'_ It's not too surprising that his father had yet another child. The urge to pass down genes is a hard one to fight in the demonic race. The only thing that does cause him to ponder, however, is who the mysterious mother figure that was never presented to them and, yet, is clearly around to still give birth to the King's heirs, could be.

The doorknob turns beneath his hands and he goes in without further pause. What lays before him is the expanse of a young boys chamber. Or more specifically a growing demon's room. Everything is in some way durable, carefully constructed, and flame retardant. The thought nearly brings a smile to his face in remembrance. Estarossa used to be pretty adamant in burning anything he could get his hands on.

A clatter draws his eyes, and his breathing becomes frozen for an instant. A little boy sits upon a thick burgundy rug with a tiny wooden sword in his grasp, the end of which he sticks in his mouth. His hair is like nothing Meliodas has ever seen before being the deepest black he'd ever laid eyes upon and blown wildly up and back aside from his messy set of bangs. His face is what Meliodas can't seem to fathom. Zeldris looks exactly like him. Chubby cheeks and deep set scowl aside, Meliodas really does have another brother. _He has more family_.

Calmly he approaches Zeldris who keeps his eyes trained on Meliodas as he continues to nibble upon his wooden sword. "Hey, Zeldris. Nice meeting you. I'm Meliodas." The blond makes sure to stop a short distance from Zeldris and take a seat.

The boy simply stares—no _glares_ —harder as if studying Meliodas. He takes the sword from his mouth and utters a single word. "Meliodas?" Of course it comes out as _Mayodas,_ but the older finds himself grinning regardless.

"Yeah, I'm your eldest brother."

"Brother?" Another butchered word as Zeldris leans down and picks up a metallic looking toy soldier no bigger than his palm. He promptly begins to stab at it rather precisely for a kid his age. A chuckle escapes Meliodas unhindered.

"Yep!" Surprisingly being around the little boy who has not a care, not a single worry upon his shoulders, makes Meliodas feel at ease. It makes it easier for him to forget the path his life has taken thus far, the things that have been stolen from him, and the things he figures he'll never truly get back.

Watching as Zeldris quietly occupies himself, Meliodas wants nothing more than to try, _just try_ , and touch upon the warmth he lost. With a cheeky grin that feels completely out of place upon his usually blank visage, Meliodas finds himself leaning slightly towards Zeldris. "Wanna see something cool?"

Zeldris eyes him almost cautiously before nodding. Meliodas is quick to scoop the boy up and into his lap, keeping one of his hands upon Zeldris' torso to keep him in place. _'_ _He's so tiny. It should be a crime.'_ It doesn't stop him from holding the boy closer in a selfish attempt for some type of connection. His left hand stretches outward, palm face up. "Watch…"

Flames of a deep purplish hue curl erupt within his palm causing Zeldris to jump in his hold, the torso beneath Meliodas' palm now thrumming with so many beats Meliodas is rendered in shock for several tense moments. But then Meliodas focuses solely on the task of manipulating his power. This is something—a useless something—he taught himself how to do. And now it seems like it'll come in handy. With a few practiced curl of his fingers, a very detailed dragon made of pure flames takes shape in his hand, thrashing realistically as flames spew from its maw.

A tiny baby soft hand settles on his arm like a warm jolt that causes Meliodas to stiffen before he breathes out slowly. Interacting with others is such a foreign concept to him he almost forgets what should happen next. That is until he sees that little hand inching up towards the dragon in his palm. Meliodas grins slightly and lets his darkness reach outward and become familiar with his youngest brother so that the flames don't hurt him.

Tentatively the two sit there as late afternoon sunlight shines in through the immense window behind them. Zeldris contentedly lets his fingers run through the flame-made dragon, while Meliodas leans his head atop soft raven locks wondering why his goal to achieve the power necessary to stand on his own ended up leaving him so unfulfilled. So... empty.


	3. Chapter 3

**~3~**

The heat of the sun sears against his back, burning straight through the simple sleeveless black tunic that clings to his form as he stares in clear boredom at the bustling village ahead of him. Even though he hardly frequents the demonic realm anymore, he still has a duty to uphold. And making sure there aren't any unusual developments in power, numbers, and alliances in Britannia is one of them.

Being able to blend in with his power suppressed, which he took years to master, is simple. If only his frigid apathy mixed with the subtle undercurrents of his malicious darkness didn't automatically cause humans to veer from his path, nearly negating his efforts to be normal entirely.

Meliodas takes up a slow gait, taking in everything with a meticulous kind of care. The scents wash over him, warm and full of life, from the buttery fragrance of fresh bread all the way down to the smell of earthy wood newly chopped and ready to burn. The people have their own unique aroma, but they all smell flat, bland as he passes each human slowly as if in contemplation.

He stops by a stall littered in baubles, trinkets, and jewels alike paying no mind to the vendor who jerks back in surprise by his presence. Meliodas' eyes roam over everything for a few moments until they come to a stop. His gaze fixes on a figurine frozen forever in time, her figure posed in an elegant spin as her hair billows behind her. And he almost unwillingly recalls. There was only one scent that tugged at his senses in a way he can't possibly describe. Only one...

"I've got flowers! The finest you've ever seen! Freshly picked and ready to give to that special someone!"

"Daggers, swords, blades, and arrows! You name it, I got!"

"Good morning! How're you this fine day?"

"Not a cloud in the sky! The day couldn't be better!"

Meliodas is pulled from his recollections by the mundane snippets that filter into his hearing. He turns away from the entrancing figurine and back to the filled pathways. His job here is to see if there's anything different, anything strange. But, as he stands rigid in observation he sees nothing of interest with these people overseen by Holy Knights. They're are all the same. Their powers flow through him with hardly any notice. The smiles on their faces, the flush of life in the cheeks as the huddle together walking in groups of two hugging and sharing intimate moment or three laughing as they care for a child, all of it stands out as normal. And yet... all of it rings as different, unusual. _Unattainable._

His fingers uncurl shakily from the biting wood of the stall behind him at the sudden distinct shouts that begin to form. He hadn't even realized he'd reacted until the voices around him had begun to rise. They're not the cries of sheer terror from discovering a demon amidst them, nor are they the cries of outrage from the damage he did to the frail wood in the brief moment his emotions tripped up, tangled together, and began to squeeze at his lungs. These are sounds of pure delight, welcome, and utmost respect.

"But for who?" He ponders while swiping the specks of wood from his palm.

"Good morning, Elizabeth! It's so wonderful to see you again!"

"Oh, Elizabeth! Welcome, welcome! It's always such a treat to have your presence around!"

"Elizabeth, do you plan to stay for long? The kids love spending time with you."

 _'_ _Is she a noble of sorts?'_ He attempts to peer through the crowd, cursing his height internally when he's unable to see who is causing the village to burst into hysterics at her arrival. Moving into the fray would be easy, but draw unnecessary attention to himself, but staying here when there can be something he needs to take note of isn't exactly an option either. As if having pity on his height challenged soul, the crowd parts for a moment and frankly that's all he needs.

Meliodas sees her, this Elizabeth, turned sideways from him and immediately he notices something forming, no, _building_ inside of him as he swallows thickly. She's petite, yet flowing with curves that draws his gaze almost effortlessly. Her clothes are simple, a mauve dress with few frills and layers that drifts down to her calves. Her hair, his eyes drag up her form once more to see it's a soft, lengthy silver, pulled up to her head in a messy yet attractive updo with ringlets that frame her delicate features and bangs that curl towards her eyes. Her eyes, he suddenly wants to see so fiercely, a slight tremor is beginning to take over his usually poised form.

She's beautiful. More than beautiful, she— He blinks his eyes rapidly and attempts to look away from her noticing how staring at her is akin to gazing at the sun, and still he finds himself wishing to look back, to burn in her radiance. His eyes go to his palms gazing in disbelief. _'_ _What's going in? What is this feeling...?'_ It's been so long since he's been overwhelmed like this, so very long. Not since he was nothing but an angry preteen trying to overcome all in his path. Not since he stumbled onto an abandoned house and locked eyes with—

He sucks in a breath as if he's drowning, scrabbling for purchase, needing something to ground him and he looks up. Right into the blue depths more vast than any sea, more magnificent than any starlit sky.

Those eyes were happy as they stared up at him, unbelievably happy and she _smiled._

 _"_ _Thank you."_

"Elizabeth," his mouth forms around the name as his entire world seems to shift and unbalance causing him to stumble back into the stall he's abused once before.

This small break in their connection seems to give Elizabeth the time necessary to turn away and disappear into the crowd. Meliodas feels everything around him come to a slow painful standstill as the hearts that give him life threaten to stop beating. It only takes a moment of his emotions, wildly surfacing one by one and unrecognizable to him to all be pushed back by the familiar urge to track down his target, his prey.

His breathing eases and his limbs steady, already guiding him forward in precise motions. His face gives nothing away as he moves quickly, slipping between the people in search of a glimpse of her form. But his eyes blaze with all the meaning one would ever need. She couldn't have gotten that far, he tells himself the further he gets into the village and closer to the forest's edge.

But even with his sharp senses stretched out to the max, he can't see her anywhere. Every corner he rounds winds up stuffed with people casually going about their day as if nothing extraordinary has just happened. Not a speck of sheeny silver greets his eyes nor does those eyes that seem to see right through him, reaching him in places he thought were forever locked away. As the smells around him enter his being, he feels almost bilious the scents all being too sweet or too bitter. None of them match. He can't find her floral scent branded in his mind even after a century.

A century...

Those two words all but drain the driving force from his form. His emotions slip away like water through a sieve, leaving him numb, his insides shaken. He takes a few steps a more staring blankly at the dense forest he'd ran into on a trail he'd never find and those two words take away his will to stand.

Meliodas crumples onto his hands and knees feeling everything and nothing as his eyes stare impassively at the lively dirt clenched beneath his fingers. "A century." His lips hardly make the effort to form the words. "She wouldn't be alive after all this time. Dead many times over by now." An almost comforting kind of silence crowds around him in the overgrown forest.

An image of her youthful figure dances into his mind only to blend with the grace and beauty of the young woman he saw today. The demon feels his shoulders sag dragging his eyes closed with them. "Why are you haunting me?" No... What he really wants to know is, "What did I lose when I left you behind?"

~.~.~

Elizabeth presses her fingers more tightly against the rough bark as she holds her breath as much as she can. The branch she perches on digs a bit into her knees, but comfort is far from her mind. Hiding from the demon of her past is more important here. Still though, breath held and eyes round in curiosity, she peeks cautiously around the curve of the tree to stare down at the man resting on his hands and knees.

His hair is untamed around his head like all those years ago and just as golden as ever. She knows it to be the same young man whose eyes were as dark and unending as the sky at night. He's the same demon that appeared covered in blood not his own, that could've killed her, but helped her instead. Elizabeth finds her mouth curving as she hides, even if her heart jumps in both worry and stomach tightening ways as she observes him push himself up fluidly, then begin a forward trek into the woods. His posture is strong and sure, yet there's no drive to be found in his motions from what she can see. He just walks and walks until she can see him no longer.

She shifts until her back is pressed to the wood, her brows creasing with her smile long since vanished. _What was he doing there? Was he looking for her?_ When he saw her he gave chase instantly. But that could've been because he remembered her as well, not because of her hidden goddess status. But still him seeing her could tip him off to those thoughts.

Her shoulders hunch as she lets out a breath. "He's gone now, so hopefully it won't matter." She assures herself before bracing her feet against the branch. Muscles bunched Elizabeth leaps from the tree allowing her cloaked wings to spread and create a gentle buffer to carry her down to the ground. Once on her feet she thinks of the village and the people she intended to visit. Because she ages slowly she doesn't go often, having had to figure out things the hard way on her own when living out in the woods. But it's so nice to be able to interact with others from time to time and glean any knowledge and supplies she can when the opportunity strikes.

The chill of awareness that goes up her spine the moment she takes a step in the direction of the village expels the air from her lungs.

"So you've come out of hiding it seems." His voice lower than she recalls holds none of the biting flare it used to.

Elizabeth wants to shake her head at how much she recalls of that single moment a hundred years prior. She has bigger things to worry about than comparing changes. She whirls crunching leaves loudly beneath her boots in her hurry to scramble back while keeping him in her sights. The yelp that blares past her mouth at him being right in front of her sends her flailing backwards and harshly onto her bottom. Heart knocking frantically at her ribs, she peers up at him as birds of all sorts flit away at her disturbance. He gazes down at her rigidly like a block of iced flames as sunlight rims his outline. Her breath hitches and her fingers curl a smidge at the unexpected feel of looking at him so closely again.

A beat passes with her beneath his scrutiny and she wonders why he hasn't said a word and why he hasn't done anything after the wild way he looked the split moment their eyes connected like a lightning strike before she sprinted away. Instead of sticking to the ground gaping at him she decides to move. Elizabeth feels her skin warm as she begins to push herself up. Midway to her feet she notices his hands twitch and she mildly wonders if he intends to help her up. Though that thought passes when she finds herself standing on her own ready to try and run or... She's not exactly sure what else she could do if he intends her any harm.

Or worse.

Again he catches her off guard as she jumps with a squeak the moment she's on her feet, his hands encircling her arm. The action isn't aggressive she discovers. Even though he gazes at her limb with the blankness of an empty parchment, the careful trace of his fingers up and down her skin remind her of someone trying to figure something out. Touching another in such a way without their permission usually makes them uncomfortable she'd come to learn when her curiosity got the best of her. So it's interesting that he seems to hold the same intrigue as her. The rough texture of his fingers and the strength under his touch is also surprisingly pleasant to her as she watches on quietly.

"Are you human?" He asks curtly snapping her from her trance.

Elizabeth worries her pulse spiking further under his touch will alert him. She draws her eyes up to his finding them penetrating her for answers. "Yes... Why?" She breathes out as a relieving breeze flutters between the trees pulling free a few stands of her silver hair and also tousling his. She blinks overcome in her gaze at the gentle sight and lifts her free hand to brush through his hair uncaring of straightening her own.

He seems to bristle but not in a bad way, his eyes flicking down as she marvels at the soft tresses traveling between her fingers. She never gets to do this with others. Personal space is a thing she's been told off, so it's a relief to be able to just act without worry. Elizabeth slides her fingers through his hair gradually as a thought tickles her mind. _'_ _Why am I not worried?'_ She watches the way his lips pinch as she feeds her curiosity by grazing his scalp with her nails next. "You don't remember... Did you come in contact with a mage and stop your time? You must be her. You look exactly..." He stumbles in a harsh voice rising above the flat glaze it's held, his fingers twitching around her arm.

Elizabeth knows nothing about this demon, only the brief tidbits she picked up from that first time. But the spitfire he was then and the pure icy restraint he is now are utter opposites that make her heart ache for some reason. Perhaps it was just a change with age, she reasons. Her lips still turn down and she runs her fingers sympathetically through his hair the way she'd want someone to do with her if she were hurting. "I didn't. But I think I know what you're referring to."

He lets her go at the words and it's like watching a barrier encase itself further. She reluctantly pulls her hand away and goes on with hastily put together thoughts. "Everyone says I look exactly like my great grandmother did. I never would have thought she knew a demon."

He flinches and the way he turns his head to gaze off to the side like an empty husk makes her regret every word she's saying. "What was her name?" His lips hardly move to form the words.

Elizabeth folds her hands in front of herself as if to shield her aching heart. "It was Elizabeth... I was named after her."

"Elizabeth..." He closes his eyes for a long moment then reopens them halfway with a slow exhale. "Thank you." He whispers barely above the wind and she's not certain he's taking to her or...

Her breath hitches and her eyes gather with tears as she thinks of him and cleaning him of blood and thanking him with all her heart. It's so silly a moment that should've been wiped away by time reverberating so deeply. And then he begins to walk away without so much as a word and she has this irrational fear that it'll be like before. Another century or even _more_ or she might _never_ see him again.

Leaping forward while hastily wiping at her eyes she chokes out, "Sir, wait!"

He pauses, but does not turn.

Elizabeth fumbles with the material of her dress in her hands, chewing at her bottom lip as she watches his back. "Sir, would you... like to have tea with me?"

He eventually rotates to face her, lifting an eyebrow slightly. The rest of his expression is as smooth as ever. "You are human and yet you aren't afraid of me killing you?"

Elizabeth gives a crooked excuse for a smile as her heart thuds happily. "I know you're dangerous and probably here to do something, but you didn't hurt me when you could've, so... I'm asking you to tea!"

His eyes widen some, the sunlight actually breathing a bit of life into his pale features as he gazes openly at her. She rapidly flushes beneath the observation but keeps her kind smile steady. "You're just like her," he notes quietly taking a step forward. "Tell me you at least know that you use a rake for leaves and not a broom."

He states it so flatly she isn't sure he's trying to make a joke. It still makes her laugh awkwardly enough for the two. "I do," she informs him confidently hands on her hips and chest pushed out as she marches deeper into the forest to lead the way. She knows that there are some things she worries she does that might not be exactly _conventional_ still however. And as they walk further ahead she realizes another problem as well. "I... live in the same house as well. It's been passed through the family, Sir..."

"It's Meliodas." He answers right behind her, sending chills up and down her flesh. _He's so silent._ Elizabeth hadn't checked to see just how close he was when she lead the way.

She shifts her walking so that he's beside her instead and his ghostly manner of walking doesn't startle her as much. Her eyes soften as she peers down at him hoping that nothing goes wrong, that she isn't making some kind of mistake by being so hasty. They could maybe be friends. She and Meliodas. She's always wanted one besides the kind Lady Merlin. "All right then. It's nice to meet you, Meliodas."

He sluggishly lifts his head towards her at her address, gazing at her with those dark unreadable eyes that stuff her stomach with strange kinds of flutters. Then he looks ahead and she twists her fingers around a stray lock of hair wondering how and if she can form a connection.

The forest with trees so tall you'd have to fly to see the top and trunks so wide you could hide a number of people behind has always been a happy place for her to live. It's quiet and peaceful and the most beautiful place to be to watch the seasons change. Hardly anyone ventures through except the timid deers and adventurous squirrels, the nesting birds and occasional young dragon. Those are so infrequent however she doesn't worry about them as much. Elizabeth isn't blind to the peacefulness of her home however. It's nice but it tends to get lonely. And her rare visits to villages and Merlin hardly fill the void.

Nearly slamming face first into a tree jolts her from her thoughts. A familiar hand around her upper arm is the reason she isn't on the ground holding back tears.

"Watch where you're going. These trees are gargantuan and not moving for anyone," Meliodas intones without looking at her before letting his hand fall away.

Elizabeth nods and rubs her hand over her arm to memorize the sensation. She opens her mouth to thank him, but then pauses concerned that it might be too much to say after before.

Meliodas is already walking ahead anyhow, dashing her chances regardless. "This is the house isn't it." He doesn't really ask.

Elizabeth maneuvers around the tree with careful steps then stands still to watch him quietly. He seems to stand in the middle of her yard for a long moment like a statue out of place and time. There's no longer any dead leaves clinging to the place. In fact fresh grass and pretty little flowers she always enjoys sitting on her porch and looking at sprout at around. The house has a fresh coat of paint which took her until a couple decades prior to figure out how to do. And the well...

Meliodas strides towards it placing his hands gingerly on the rim. She can just catch his face and the way his eyes soften the most in his frigid expression. Her cheeks warm almost against her will and she can't figure out why. She's only gazing at him. Elizabeth shakes her head and looks down with a rattled breath, then turns towards her home. "I'll get the tea started," she calls not really expecting an answer.

Once inside she walks to her humble kitchen and searches through her cabinets for a pot—no, kettle. She wrinkles her brow and recalls that Merlin said either was okay. Holding the silver kettle in handle it occurs to her that the well is outside and she'll have get past Meliodas to it. The door creaks behind her and Elizabeth spots him right where she last saw him though now a bucket of water has already been reeled up just like when they were younger.

She sneaks up on him just as easily, smile in place as she scoops water into the kettle over his hold. "Thank you," she grins so bright—with a bit of a laugh—her eyes fall shut. The clatter of the bucket tipping over suddenly snaps her out of her reaction.

Elizabeth's heart pumps erratically low in her throat as her fingers dig into the smooth metal of the kettle, her eyes locked on the way Meliodas gapes at her as if he can't breathe. It's the most open he's appeared since he gave chase so it doesn't calm her heart anymore when he grips her arms like a lifeline. "She said the same thing." He gasps.

Elizabeth curses her politeness, anxious from the wild way he gazes at her every feature. "I'm just polite, Meliodas. I'm certain she was too." She reasons gently, feeling a bit lightheaded at her lies. She's such a terrible liar.

But he steps closer and she's afraid he'll hear her heartbeat when he leans his forehead to her collarbone. "You smell the same. Like a field of flowers," he states evenly.

She tries to laugh as sweat gathers on her palms and her hands begin to shake. "There are flowers all around."

He shakes his head once, decisive. "There was nothing but dead leaves soaking the air back then and she still smelled of fresh flowers. There are flowers all around but I could never forget."

Elizabeth trembles in his hold inhaling the earth and woods that clings to his hair at her chin and she feels her throat sting. He's right. That's a scent she'd never forget. "What are you trying to say?" She swallows.

He looks up with eyes intense with certainty. "You are her."

Three words and Elizabeth almost shakes apart. She almost lets herself give in to the truth. But so much else could be pried from that revelation, she forces herself to swallow back the burn in her throat and laugh no matter how much it hurts. "We made it clear I was human. My great grandmother died a very long time ago. You and she might have been close—"

He lets her go as a stoniness starts to crawl up his appearance, subduing the growing light in his eyes more effectively than any shadow could. "We weren't close. We met once." He doesn't even snap. He merely says the words as his eyes settle into a faded gaze that's unbearable to glimpse into.

Elizabeth turns her eyes down to stare at the kettle clutched to her belly and hates herself for her next words, knowing that something isn't right with him and that she's most likely making it _worse_. "Then why is she so important?"

Meliodas doesn't answer immediately, but when he does his words sink her heart. "I must be going now. I do have matters to attend to after all."

She jerks her head up with a gasp, eyes widening drastically to find him distancing himself already. Adrenaline drives her forward on stumbling feet. "But what about tea!?" She cries desperately extending her hand as if that can bridge the invisible gap between them as the tears she'd held back rapidly escape like a sudden rain.

Meliodas glances over his shoulder with eyes cold and biting, but most of all _lifeless_ , and that's what roots her to her spot, shaking and sniffling. "Don't follow me, Elizabeth. I would hate to have to kill you."

He's serious. Without a doubt, his grave tone is not to be pushed. Which is why when he walks away without a backwards glance, Elizabeth crumbles to the ground on her knees, crushing the kettle to her as she quakes, weeping. "I m-made a mistake... I made a m-mistake! I'm sorry. I'm so s-sorry! Please forgive me. P-please..." She expects to be punished severely for hurting him—even after all those years—and, for once, would gladly welcome it. She just wanted to be friends. But now they won't be seeing each other again.


	4. Chapter 4

**~4~**

Elizabeth takes care to only flit above the canopy of trees when she travels, fast and graceful compared to her first embark through the air in her escape. Above the thick leaves there's less chance of anyone seeing her and noticing her "lack" of wings carrying her through the air. She grins as she twists through the sunlit sky wondering if they'd perhaps think she was a mage of they saw ever. Lady Merlin carries herself through the air nicely without wings, so it's a possibility. The only reason she travels this far away from home to this town of people is because they have the most wonderful pastries she's ever tasted and...

It's been practically a year since she's really had a chance to talk to anyone.

Her smile dims, but remains true as little baby blue birds dash past her with sweet songs, and because she does plan on seeing people that day. She'd learned that when she was just a preteen and so eager to talk to people and learn all about the world that her frequent visits were welcome, until a couple years went by and she hasn't aged as the youth around her had. Seeing people less often dulls their memories of her especially of their getting older in age where she learned humans really began to forget things.

Swooping through an opening between the leaves she lands on light feet with and carefully guides her eyes around. The trees and fauna are chilled and still slumbering for this time of year and despite the sun being out it's still late winter. Drawing her ruby scarf higher around her throat, Elizabeth strides in the direction of where she knows this town to be, deciding to foot it the rest of the way just to be safe.

The temporary solitude gives way to her more well hidden thoughts, which causes her to sigh and fidget with the tail end of the scarf. She'd been cautious in keeping her thoughts to herself with Lady Merlin's most recent visit, but the mage had her ways of picking out when something was bothering Elizabeth. And that something is Meliodas. Elizabeth refused to say his name, but she did relay that she'd upset a potential friend and she hasn't seen him since.

Her lips purse as she tugs at her scarf which goes well with the long deep green coat wrapped around her figure. She doesn't know why it bothers her so much, his absence. She hasn't even had a true conversation with him and yet she longs to see him. "It's silly and risky. He could figure out so much," she reprimands herself forcefully for the hundredth time. From the look of his eyes so vast yet empty they sometimes shook her if she looked for too long, they still carried a weight of power to them that reminds her of Merlin. He'd see through her lies if he hadn't already.

Elizabeth brushes stray silvery locks behind her ear as she gives a resolute nod. "So put this behind you already." But then she thinks about the way he'd looked when she told him Elizabeth had died and that resolution breaks with a worrying nibble of her lower lip.

A few steps beyond the village and Elizabeth draws up short. Not to far ahead she can see crates overturned with smashed fruits and vegetables smeared across cobblestone, glass tinkling in the sunlight in various places over the ground, and not a soul in sight. She inhales sharply while pacing forward slowly with twisting thoughts. Everything comes to a screeching halt when a shriek sails through the air further into the town. Her heart jumpstarts as her skin becomes clammy. Her feet carry her forward in a hasty dash.

Elizabeth knows something horrible is going on but someone is in need of help which she hopes she can provide. The further in she weaves through the building with panting breaths, the more she notices the same damage spread all around, squeezing her heart. Someone did this, but why? The screams swell letting her know she's where she needs to be as she presses to the side of a white stoned building. Peeking around it, Elizabeth sees a burly man yanking a girl only a few years older than Elizabeth was when she escaped—in outwards appearance anyway.

Tears streak the girl's visage despite how much she fights and screams. When the man forces her to the ground and reaches for something on him, Elizabeth feels her fingers curl rigidly and her jaw tense. Sharp blue eyes look around swiftly until they spot a hefty rock on the ground—a result of the damage from men like him. Tensing her muscles to lift it, the power cloaked yet very much in her being flares out like a snap of lightning, allowing her to chuck the rock and nick him right at the back of his head.

He's the one who exclaims sharply, doubling over as the writhes in pain. The girl on the ground stumbles up in shock and gives Elizabeth, whose smile outdoes a beam from the sun, a grateful nod before running off swiftly. Elizabeth watches her for a moment to be sure she's safe beetle turning her gaze down to her hands in triumph. She helped someone—no, saved them. It's not something she ever thought she had in her.

A gruff growl has her eyes shooting up and the light feelings draining out of her as the man turns for her like a beast enraged beyond his limit. "You're gonna pay for that bitch!"

Elizabeth's breaths come in thin huffs as her eyes widen and her heart beats so fast she trembles as she stumbles back. "W-what? I'm-I... did—" Her throat dries as he stomps towards her swiftly, hulking and deadly and she goes to run but trips and falls. Frightened noises become of her words as she scramble backwards, unable to take her eyes from the threat. He's right on top of her before she can even scream. Her hand catches on glass. Her fingers quake in their attempts to grab it. A sharp smack of skin on skin and Elizabeth collapses to the ground. Her face burns like fire, splitting around warm blood in the icy chill of winter. Tears spring forward as her mind whirls in agony and her vision darkens momentarily. _'He hits so hard... Why did he hurt me?'_

Her body moves without her guiding it. The unyielding grasp of the man lifting her from the ground as the world shifts nauseatingly around her for a time. Her mind centers on a moment when she feel to her bottom like that but he didn't hurt her when he could. His touch had been nice. Elizabeth opens wet eyes to see her hair dangling towards the moving ground as the man carries her over his shoulder. Chains encircle her wrists held in front of her. _'Why am I thinking of him at a time like this? They're trying to imprison me again...'_ Elizabeth nearly cries out as she imagines they know who she is and that they're taking her back to the goddesses. _'I can't go back there. I can't!'_ Tears drip to the ground as she sucks in a hoarse breath. The frightened thoughts pull forth a memory of something Merlin once told her when she was younger.

 _Elizabeth's fingers curl under the crate of books Merlin asked of her to bring to the table they study on. The crate smells of aged parchment and twinkling dust she defines as magic. Still though no matter how much strength she puts into her limbs, she struggles to even get it an inch above the ground. She huffs and looks towards Merlin who's ruby smile is filled with mirth though her golden eyes glow with that sparkle that means Elizabeth is missing something. "It's too heavy, Lady Merlin," Elizabeth complains as she rubs her sore arms._

 _At this the mage chuckles. "You see Elizabeth, you have far more strength than you give yourself credit, my dear. If you were to use the power within to aid you, most human obstacles wouldn't stand in your way." She explains with a casual flick of her fingers that lifts the crate with ease, levitating it through the air to the table with a small grin._

Elizabeth's breath catches from the memory and the throb emanating across the left side of her face. Quickly she recalls the power that flared through her instinctively before and focuses on the warm luminance urging it throughout her limbs like an electric river. Her teeth clench as she tugs her arms apart and the cuffs break like crumbling parchment. She flinches at the slight sound hoping the man doesn't notice and after a beat as he continues to match towards a dull gathering of cries like before, Elizabeth is relieved.

The power within her crackles under her skin like a barrier numbing her to the pain and bolstering her courage. She'll fight him. She'll wrestle herself free and—

The man abruptly lurches with a wet strange noises and a warm liquid begins to splatter across her back as he collapses forward. She screams as she's brought down with him confused as to why it's happening and fearing the impact with the ground.

Again something occurs beyond her control when she's snatched from the lax hold of the man and whisked much too fast for her mind to process the blend of colors and shapes, a short distance away. When everything stills she realizes an arm is wound around her waist as she's carefully guided to stand. Her spinning vision centers immediately on familiar stony features and inky eyes that gaze at her with an unreadable intensity that has her swallowing. Her fingers she hadn't realized had hooked into his jacket, curl tighter and her voice sound strained in her ears. "Meliodas..."

This has to be some kind of bizarre dream. She didn't actually wake up this morning and travel here today just yet. This is just her mind playing tricks on her so she can see him again. The pain wasn't real and the fear wasn't either. She feels herself nearly smile giving into the fantasy until she spots the growing pool of crimson over his shoulder gleaming in the sunlight.

The man that held her before is missing the top portion of his head. The cut is clean though the gore that spills out of the opening is anything but.

Elizabeth loses her footing grasping onto Meliodas tighter as she hides her face into his shoulder with a full bodied quake. She has to force herself to breathe even as her stomach rolls furiously and she wants more than anything to scream. That wet splash on her back was his blood. She's covered in blood. Meliodas he... "You killed him," she gasps, closing her eyes when breathing does nothing to put her at ease and despite how tightly she strangles his jacket with her fingers they refuse to stop shaking. "in such a _terrible_ way."

He scoops her up without preamble and leaps into the air where she peeks her eyes open to see massive black wings beating against the wind. "I did. He was holding you over his shoulder, unwittingly using you as a shield for his more vital areas. I didn't want to risk hitting you no matter how well practiced I am with precision. So it was either take his legs out from under him or go for his head," he explains frankly, voice low and easily blending with the chill of winter.

Elizabeth draws her head back from his shoulder and the scent of moist woods and takes two shallow breaths before glaring into the side of his face. "T-there were others, did you help them?"

Meliodas makes no move to show that he heard her and with them flying at such speeds they're getting further away...

It must be all the insanity that's happened so far that causes her to react. A fist is pounded on his chest while she trembles, her eyes narrowing as her voice comes out loud and demanding. "Put me down! I need to help them! They should be saved! Y-you didn't—!"

He turns his head to face her then, quieting her words as her gaze wavers under the cold burn of his. "You want me to help them even if I kill people?"

Elizabeth closes her eyes weak from the jittery feeling spiking inside her and the pain still radiating through her face. "Please." She breathes. She knows he has no reason to even humor her. Why he even saved her is a mystery. But she wouldn't be able to go on without regret knowing she hasn't tried.

Meliodas descends through the air and she feels her hair whipping about briefly before the cover of leaves stretches over their heads. He sets her on her feet and steps away when she opens her eyes to stare at him in open question. He meets her gaze with eyes suddenly harsher than any raging storm the depths within containing a lethal calculating to them she's certain has killed many beforehand. And he's looking at her.

Elizabeth goes to take a step back until he turns from her then vanishes in a blur of motion. It only takes a moment for her to stare off after him before she falls to her knees and wraps her arms around herself as if she can't keep her warmth. _'What was that? Was he angry? That was nothing like when we were younger. That was...'_ A particularly violent shake travels through her and she tucks her chin down holding herself tighter unable to find the words. _'Was that just his way of preparing to fight?'_ She makes a pained sound when the swelling in her face lets itself be known with deep pangs. _'I'm here alone and maybe that face was him being upset with me again. Maybe he left me...'_ Tears gather like a shaky sheen over her eyes as she sniffles quietly.

The cracking of leaves in front of her doesn't do her heart any good jolting the tears free. "I freed the victims from captivity. They should be able to handle it from there." Meliodas informs her with all the emotion of a status report.

Elizabeth bites her lip head still down as tears rapidly slip down her face, the salt irritating her wounds as she tries to remain silent. She knows she should respond, he did as she asked after all, he didn't leave her, nor was he angry with her. But there's a clawing in her throat that says if she opens her mouth while she's not in control of her body who knows what might come out. Her chest expands shakily when he hooks an arm under her legs and behind her back pressing her to his chest as he takes to the air again. Elizabeth is rigid with wide eyes for several moments before she unravels her arms and winds them around his chest.

Tears lessening she takes in shallow breaths before speaking against the wind. "I'm s-sorry for lashing out at you."

"From shock? There's nothing to forgive," the words rumble soothingly in his chest and she takes in a quick but deeper breath at feeling how warm his thumb is sweeping back and forth over her calf to a steady beat. She hadn't noticed how cold she was. "Take deep breaths before you pass out, Elizabeth. Focus on something that'll calm you," he urges above her head.

Elizabeth leans her head to his chest and discovers a range of beats that both floods her with light swirls of wonder reminiscent to the heart swelling moment of watching her first snowfall. But it also allows her to just breathe and listen as Meliodas carries her away. Eyelids drooping before dropping off completely she whispers, "Where are we going?"

They rock gently through the air as his wings flap. "Home."

 _'Home. That sounds nice...'_ She nuzzles closer as her quaking dissipates leaving her spent. "Thank you." He squeezes her closer and she holds onto the rhythm of his hearts.

~.~.~

Being with Elizabeth once more is like discovering air again after going too long without. He was somehow existing but the world was flat and gray with no real meaning. That was normal to him however. His only real reason to get up each day was to continue his search. He reported to his father every so often and went over any leads but there was no feelings there, no reason to feel driven. He'd visit young Zeldris when he wanted to feel a tendril of something.

But that's nothing compared to locking eyes with her again or even holding her in his arms.

Meliodas hadn't expected to find her there in the town where rumors of the missing goddess might turn up much less hurt and contained. It was so peculiar the raw burn under his skin that relished the blood of her attacker. He knows it to be fury and the most understandable feeling that flares up from time to time. But the ease in which it came with the force of a geyser was so unusual that he'd welcomed the level emptiness that rose up and engulfed him the moment she was in his arms.

But that hadn't quite happened no matter how much he denies it to himself.

He gazes down at the barely noticeable quiver in his hands with blank eyes illuminated in the candlelight. It's been like this since the moment he swept her up from her dead captor. "Why does she affect me so much?" He wonders lowly thinking over the breath catching sensations that have plagued him in her presence.

Her house is otherwise silent with Elizabeth fast asleep in her bed. Folding his hands down precisely on the wood he swivels his head around the unfamiliar surroundings utterly blase. There are no pictures to be found like there would be if this was a family home, though there are flowers potted in various objects all around in abundance. From actual cooking pots to things that look like flasks he doesn't see a plant pot anywhere which for some reason causes his lips to twitch upwards before being dragged flat by an invisible weight. She's unusual and the thought of it is like being out in the sun after freezing for so long. It's... nice.

"Meliodas?" The sudden call from upstairs makes him stiffen. She sounds panicked to his well trained ears. Is she possibly still in shock?

Meliodas stands from his chair and moves to the stairs at the urge of her voice, hearing her call his name again, this time louder and with a thumping of footsteps. He appears in her doorway, the first room in the right, before she can start crying. Seeing her wet face earlier had felt like his insides were sinking in quicksand. He doesn't know what that was exactly but he'd rather not bring it up again.

Elizabeth stands with wild blue eyes pinned to him and his eyes are instantly drawn to the harsh swelling down the right side of her face which causes his jaw to tense. A heavy pressure inside threatens to break free of the numb the cold. 'I should have done more than grant that man an instant death. It should have been prolonged for the pain he's caused.' A vivid flash runs through him like the biting of wrath wishing to be set free and he has to look down as his fingers twitch briefly. With a slow breath the sensation fades into smooth untouched ice and he wonders again why the fury arose with such ease.

Meliodas allows himself to focus on other things instead of the odd occurance like her breathing—rushed, but not like before—and the sound of her heart—speeding, but not at dangerous levels. Perhaps she's just experiencing a moderate level of worry? He stands there plainly letting her see that he's there to abate the feeling. And his gaze drifts to her eyes knocking the breath from his lungs as his hearts stutters before speeding like hers. 'Why do I react this way every time?' Gazing at her now, despite what was done to her, he finds her utterly breathtaking... and his body responds in new unknown ways accordingly.

His silent observations all go out the window when she dashes towards him and wraps her arms around his shoulders tightly. It's like a bolt of lightning strikes inside cause the forced calm to jolt though he stands very still with not even taking a breath. "You're still here! I thought you had left or that maybe I was dreaming," she breathes relieved into the side of his neck.

He closes his eyes overwhelmed by the frigid cold inside clashing with the warmth enveloping him. Her silky hair tickles his skin which prickles strangely all over. His hands at his side twitch with uncertainty as he inhales only to see her smiling face from back then morph into the one of today. He did stay. Why? Why couldn't he leave as he should? His arms shakily lift up and loop around her back embracing the hug as he squeezes his eyes shut tighter. 'Because I left you behind before and I can't do it again.'

Elizabeth pulls back and the curse latched perpetually to his being seems to surge forth and smother the jolting sensations within and his previously startled gaze reflects that in the way they become distant and his eyelids lower. Winter crawls into his being warding off the burn of summer's touch leaving him abruptly hollow, level headed, and calculating once more. It's more than simply draining, but he's beyond putting word to the other sinking sensation.

Elizabeth tilts her head and her brows crease slightly with her hair catching brilliantly in the moonlight. "I wanted to apologize for what I said when I upset you when we, um, first met," she bends her lips in a hesitant fashion while meeting his gaze.

Meliodas feels a spark akin to embers graze the tips of his fingers at her words and for some reason her eyes fuel the sensation along sluggishly allowing him to shake his head. "You said all the things that would hurt me even if I don't know why they would, and even though they're not true."

Elizabeth stands straighter with an inhale that isn't released for a time. "What are you talking about?"

He's almost compelled to put one foot in front of the other until he reaches her, halting in a rigid stance where he grasps her arm. Her breath hitches when he slides his fingers under her wool sleeve touching her warm velvety skin for that crackle of sensation that always jumps through him with direct contact. He's well versed in sensing magic and something jumps out at him well hidden that he can't put his name on—even back then. Stroking her skin to familiarize himself with the current he meets her startled eyes with certainty stretching beyond his usual blank tone. "Back then when you touched me I felt some kind of magic, just like I do now."

Elizabeth seems to shrink in on herself as her features scrunch in rising fear. He steps closer, not knowing what to think, or even if such closeness is appropriate. But he carefully shushes her tears away all the same. "You're hiding and that's okay. I'm not after you so you don't have to worry." He assures her with the truth.

She takes in a rattled breath, her eyes shifting with clear nerves as she whispers thickly, "You promise?"

His lips actually curve marginally at her admittance and he curls his fingers around her arm, holding tight to the breathtaking sensations struggling to kindle within him through touch. "I do."

She grins and he believes it to be a absolutely stunning adornment to her. "I knew you'd figure it out. You're so smart."

He shakes his head as something opens up inside him like a vacuum and his shoulders slump. "No, you're just a terrible liar," he tells her flatly.

Her lips purse and Elizabeth hesitates before running her fingers through his hair, a welcoming gesture that he can't react to. "Meliodas, I know there's something wrong. Years ago you were so expressive and now it's like you're just a husk. And it hurts to see."

Meliodas gives a long sigh while brushing his thumbs across the inside of her forearm drawn for some reason to this human that's allowed him to feel things fleetingly than he has since he was cursed. "I'm sorry." He doesn't know why he says it. It's all he can do however. He can't remove his curse and as far as he knows he can't learn to be the way he once was. Every time there's an inkling of sensation it can be overwhelming and he doesn't understand it, and before he even really has a chance to learn, the binding magic takes it away.

"Don't look like that," Elizabeth suddenly pleads with a moisture to her tone that reflects in her eyes.

He stares at her. "Like what? Like a blank sheet?"

She shakes her head and grasps his shoulder which jostles him outwards from his stiff stance. "No! Like you're dying inside!" She takes her arm from his hold so she can encircle his torso and crush him to her. "Let me help you! I want to be your friend, Meliodas..."

He gazes over her shoulder quietly, limp in her hold as he thinks over her words. Friend? Could he really have a friend? Does he even want one? When his arms wrap around her once more pressing her soft body to his unyielding one of their own accord he decides that must be the case. She stopped her time somehow so dying of age won't be a problem with them. So he can be friends with this human.

But... "You can't help me Elizabeth." He informs her plainly.

She pulls back wiping at her eyes in order to give him a petulant glare. "And why is that?"

He blinks slowly at her gesture before studying the objects in her room, some utterly out of place with indifference scrawled in his features. "Because I've been cursed with immortality and a consequence of that is I can't properly feel any longer. You could say like this I'm the demon I set out to become when I was younger."

There's no answer from Elizabeth after a time so when she sniffles his eyes turn to hers swiftly to discover her gazing at him wide eyed and skin so pale the moonlight makes her akin to a corpse. She looks as if she's sick with tears dripping down her cheeks. Her hands rise up to wipe them away but more simply wash away her efforts.

Meliodas loses a breath over the sight, at a loss of what a demon like he—so socially inept, damaged, _broken_ —could do to aide her. State useless facts on how to breathe? Pat her like a master would his pet? Not for the first time he wishes he wasn't simply a body capable and efficient of one sole thing.

"Why is that?" She demands a bit hoarsely.

His efficiency is lost momentarily. He doesn't deserve this type of response does he? "I... can kill without hesitation and my power is not limited by inhibitions." He states robotically as she looks to the side and nods forcefully to herself.

When she looks his way again she is no longer shaken but hardened with resolve, her eyes burning with such determination he's unable to break away from them. Her tears taper off as she plasters on a smile that's encouraging and reaches inside him in hopes of warming his hearts. "We're going to fix this together. But first we're having that tea!"

Her hand grasps his to lead him downstairs and Meliodas feels a very small fissure against the frosty wall of his insides. He knows she's just being positive, but the feel of her hand and the overwhelming look on her eyes makes him want to believe the impossible for once.


	5. Chapter 5

**~5~**

The night air is crisp along his features and the tips of his fingers, but manageable as he coasts through the sky. His eyes study the rolling hills and clustering of trees, the crawling shadows and pockets of silver en route to the town of Bernia. He blinks mildly as he spots stone buildings plotted over the land just ahead in the distance, his plan already in mind the closer his wings eat up the gap between in elegant beats.

Even though Meliodas' thoughts run through his tasks with the efficiency he's long since honed, odd recollections appear before his mind from time to time of a hand wrapped around his of zinging sparks. He thinks about the way she served him tea in a coffee mug and drank from a small circular pot herself, her pale hands clutched around the pot with an ease that spoke of normalcy even if it was anything but. Her blue eyes that even now pilfers air from him had looked on at him beseechingly as she'd asked why he was in that town. Meliodas feels his very being sag as he lets out a slow breath as he recalls his flat answer of, "Searching for someone."

Elizabeth isn't to know the finer details of his unwanted task, even if he felt as if urged to share every and anything with her. The things he plan on doing tonight would place her in a position to earn more than just a battered visage. His fingers twitch at the thought then curl as a brief gust of dry heat burns up his skin at the idea before dying out. She is determined to fix what his father did and he would like to believe her, having experienced more than just the numb drag upon his soul the moment he laid eyes upon her again. But the Demon King's power is unwavering. So the brief moments of quiet with her that are so vastly different, fuller and warmer, than the quiet than accompanies him when he's home and alone won't make a difference.

Before he knows it Meliodas is before the town, diving through the air to land nimbly upon the ground where is power is kept is hidden away, only shown in his bottomless gaze. He forces thoughts away of hesitantly touching his fingertips to her swollen bruised and split skin where his darkness stretches out in crackling twists, snagging both of their breaths when his magic encounters wisps of hers shrouded but warm helping to take her pain away. He takes measured steps away from the memory of her desperate embrace as he stood in her doorway, her breath rasped as she begged for him to not go away for a year again or a hundred. His mechanical steps become a bit harsher as his head dips down towards his chest. He won't leave her for that long, but the incident she was mixed up in might keep him away for a time regardless.

When he'd set out to free those people at her command he'd discovered men, and children, and woman out of their prime being contained in gated carriages in one area while the woman of teens and young adults were caged in another. If he knows one thing it's that that wasn't a coincidence and he plans to discover more on why tonight.

The ice in the air makes the lurkers and dwellers of the cobblestoned streets more rigid and biting in their harsh glares. Lanterns are scarcely lit on some buildings the ones with shady windows and men stumbling out with a bottle in one had and a scantily clad woman in the other. He feels for the swelling of strong magic, sensing a few Holy Knights gathered in one dwelling as echoes of cries and moans break the still air from time to time.

Meliodas observes these occurrences blankly, not truly being able grasp why the drunken man feels the need to slant his over the woman's and palm her flesh roughly as he drags her in between two buildings. It reminds him of the countless times he's seen people—couples—always seemingly connected in some way be it their hands, their gaze, their children, and like before, their lips. His lips set even deepen into a frown. Whatever it is that drives them is powerful and wholly unattainable to a being such as he.

Meliodas weaves into the darker areas of Bernia where the buildings appear more withered and he can feel eyes watching him through the cracks of the abandoned homes. Carefully he strides as the wind musses his hair to where he can hear brusque tones of a few men, his thoughts already set on a string of lines that should hopeful get him the information he needs. His boots crunch in the gravel of the opening of the alley purposely to draw their attention. One man at the back is bald with sunken eyes sits atop an overturned crate, while the other two stand, one with a scar over his eye and the other with a fresh bruise on his chin. A nice set of thugs with heavy set sneers, just what he was after.

"What do ya want kid? You musta wandered pretty far to find ya way down here," the one with the scar glowers twisting his features ugly and fierce.

Meliodas doesn't bat an eye at the misconception and simply walks at an even gait forward as the moonlight reflects easily across the scabbard strapped to his hip, something no kid could effortlessly manage. They all eye it then the sharp edge of his features and he wonders if his eyes says what he doesn't have to because the one with the bruise takes a single step back once Meliodas is close enough. "I was looking into buying a woman off the market," he states apathetic. "Could you all be of service?"

The one with sunken eyes studies him uncertain, but the one with the scar grins lecherous. "So ya just interested in having a bitch as your slave yeah? That's a pretty heavy coin ya willin to pay. But if tha pussy's right, I'm all for it!"

Meliodas lacks any of the fervor the man's outburst clearly calls for, not that he can help it and also because his mind is analyzing the words in an attempt to try and understand them. Buying a woman would translate as having her as a slave but what does that have to do with pussy? He honestly curses his lack of socially understanding more than ever.

His bland stare dries up the man's chortles which forces Meliodas to offer a candid response so as not to further ice their response to him. "Yes I'm willing to pay what I must... I heard there was a recent grab of women over in Cains. Will that be happening here as well?" He curves his timbre into something curious as his eyes swivel over the three.

They all go stiff as if gazing at a bad omen. The one with sunken eyes thunders in a rattled tone. "That was different and has nothing to do with the selling of women!"

The one with a bruise eyes Meliodas sidelong, the edge in his stance more than clear to Meliodas' trained eyes. "What happened there… that's bad news, even for us lowlives. Stealing during the day, smuggling woman during the night… what they're doing to people makes what we do seem almost petty. That's not happening here thankfully. You best stay away from Dalmary for a while if you know what's good for you. If you're looking to buy a woman you need to head for the underground dealings over in the Forest of White Dreams."

Meliodas nods curtly noting the atmosphere go sour after the mention of Cains town. It's no matter as he's heard all of what he needs. Leaving as subtly as he arrived Meliodas keeps his guard flexed for any possible attacks as he did mention paying a heavy price for a girl which tends to bring out human's greed. But as the grim m grungy parts of Bernia fade into the slightly more lit areas of town nothing strikes.

A thunderous crash of metal on stone grates through the air.

Meliodas stills, breath even, pulse steady as his hand lies poise over the hilt of his sword while he listens. Distinct frantic moans and rough grunts flood the gap between the buildings from before punctuated by cries for harder and faster. Meliodas tilts his head almost curious before his hand falls back to his side and he continues on his way, over the bridge, and out of the town. He wastes no time leaping into the air to be swallowed up by the winter night once more. He has plans to make for a very critical exchange after all.

~.~.~

He reaches the town of Dalmary when ribbons of color reach across the sky. He stays well hidden in the trees just outside of it for the time being however as he can see the people preparing for their day, hauling grain over their shoulders, or pushing wagons of fruit with bright smiles as they greet one another. There aren't any screams or streaks of blood to be seen just yet, so he settles in the small forest, power coiled tight, prepared to wait. When one day of solitude filled with people watching stretches into two then three, Meliodas decides to journey back to his home as barren as he feels in order to collect a few things he'll need to stay longer before returning once more.

Stuffed in a black duffle bag over his shoulder, metallic boots reaching his shins and sword strapped on as always, Meliodas walks into town eyes unflinchingly forward with a revised plan in mind. His steps are purposely precise over the ground, careful in a way, and when the people begin to turn and watch him he doesn't meet any gazes. A stout woman crosses his path and Meliodas doesn't stop, running into her and stumbling back in a way that almost doesn't look practiced. He can feel her gape of surprise as she gasps. "I apologize," he offers with a hand going over his chest, the best he can do to appear sincere. "I didn't mean to run into you, but I... can't see and I—"

"Oh you poor dear!" The woman gushes as she places her hands on his shoulders attentively. "Do you have someone to help you?" She implores squeezing her fingers kindly.

The touch is an odd gesture and makes him stiffen. He should've expected it. And when he examines the sensation further, it's nothing at all like when Elizabeth touches him. He feels just as uncaring, perhaps more on edge than any other day. He uses the reaction to his advantage when he tilts his head down. "I... insisted I could do this alone, but apparently not."

"Well I'll be more than willing to help with what I can." She offers instantly.

He lifts his head. "I just need to find an inn." His tone is quiet.

The woman begins to guide him further into town with a nod. "All right then. I know just the place."

 _Sweetie Bell Inn_ was just the place run by a middle aged red haired woman and her freckle cheeked twin daughters. The woman who guided him in explained that he couldn't see but would like a room to which the mother agreed upon. Meliodas though only granted the brief glance around when brought in was able to note one daughter slouched over a sofa not the least bit drawn by the arrivals but the other hasn't removed her gaze once. Without looking he can still feel it. Peculiar.

"How long are you staying?" The mother inquires peering over him with a critical eye.

He maneuvers his duffle without really looking at it, then reaches inside for the pouch filled with coins for this purpose. "A month's stay should be fine," he voices like a lazy breeze.

He doesn't glance up to see her eyes widen. "And you have enough to cover it?"

He feels for the heavier coins and hands over several pieces of gold. "Thank you." That's the right thing to say he believes.

The mother smiles while clutching the coins, "No, thank you! Betsy help this young man up to his room!"

"No, mother, I'll do it," the one who hasn't looked away eagerly rushes to his side and winds her arm through his. "Thanks for bringing him here," she dismisses the woman he'd bumped into and starts to pull him along towards the stairs in the back.

Meliodas only sighs and blinks satisfied that his plans so far have worked. The stairs go up three floors and the entire way the girl latched to his arm smelling of sweets and perfume caresses his bicep with flawed subtly. He wonders if this is normal, having never been close with another to know or not. He's seen couples do such things but they are not a couple... They are a couple of people, but it still strikes as off. His brows furrow and they reach the last door on the third floor.

"I'm Martha, by the way. And I normal don't do this, but you look pretty sad, maybe it's about the eyes. Either way if you need your bed warmed at night... just ask. You're very striking. Don't let one thing bring you down." She presses her curves into his side while dragging a hand down his chest in a nonverbal language he can't interpret.

He nods regardless as she untangles herself from him and opens his door for him, then helps him to his bed. He's left alone where he's allowed to close his eyes and exhale slowly. His eyes tend to give him away in certain situations, but with well woven lies humans allow themselves to believe what they're told. Now that he's here he'll be able to wait for when the strike arrives and better gather information on the missing goddess.

Still he wonders what Martha meant about warming his bed and why Elizabeth seems to come to mind as his mind ponders a solution. His bed is always warm enough when he lies in it gazing blankly at the ceiling.

~.~.~

When he'd set out to Dalmary he hadn't expected to be waiting a month for something to occur, but then again, it took him nearly a year to discover a possible location on the goddess. The wait doesn't bother him. He sits in his room with the curtains parted each day watching the people and sensing for any strange occurrences. Food is brought to him by Martha who smiles and attempts to broach conversation with the ease of coercing words from a brick wall. Overtime she goes to simple greetings and longing looks, which Meliodas notes but writes off as unnecessary concern.

Meliodas doesn't feel bothered by passing of time, but there's a strange prickle under his skin each day as the sun sets over the white blanket that coats the earth and when he notices the snow dwindling more and more to make room for warmer days. He goes to bed at night noticeably on edge and he finds his thoughts not focusing on the pure aura of magic that flits briefly across his senses, but silky silver hair that tickled his skin, and a scent that fills his lungs and puts him at ease. A smile that makes his nerves sing from his fingertips to his belly and wide eyes that hastens his pulse filling him with a rush that's positively breathtaking. In the morning when he awakens alone it occurs to him that perhaps he's lonely. That maybe his bleak soul misses her presence.

An approaching foreboding on the wind halts any further thoughts. Gathering his things and stuffing them in his duffle, Meliodas walks to his door and leaves the room he stayed in for a month. Keeping up his rouse, he walks with a hand to the wall until he reaches the bottom floor where his arrival is noticed by Martha and her mother. Betsy is somewhere up stairs. Martha walks up to him with questioning eyes he does not meet. She doesn't ask the obvious once noticing his duffle.

"You're leaving now? Will you be okay?" Her hands goes to his shoulder and he finds it strange how the weight of it is like nothing, as of it's not even there. She may as well be touching stone.

Her gives a curt nod. "I will. Thank you for the hospitality." He answers.

Martha presses her lips together in a smile and guides him towards the door which she walks him out of. The air clings to the brisk of winter though the keen sunshine warms wherever it touches comfortably. Before letting him go however Martha stands in front of him with a last message. "I wasn't able to figure out the reason for that perpetual despair of yours but if it's over a woman, go back to her. I'm sure you won't be sorry!"

Meliodas blinks at her observation but nods all the same. He makes a rigid right and begins an easy path forward as the foreboding steadily swells. The people chatter happily all around him exchanging goods. Children weave through the streets with peals of laughter enjoying the pleasant weather. It looks to be an average day he's witnessed time and time again. But this time he drifts from town back to the forest where he abandons his belongings of clothes that are easily replaceable.

Perched in the canopy of a tree with rich earth warming above the chill he watches as wagons with thick iron bars arrive just outside of town. Hulking men armed with swords and grim countenances march forward as a wave of ruination. A cacophony of screams and wails break over the town shattering the bright picturesque state it once held as the people are forced into submission. Meliodas' gaze is steady as he observes the eventual blood splatter along the streets and buildings noting how once again the people are sorted according to his earlier discoveries.

It takes until the sun is blazing high in the sky for them to gather every soul, their cries and sobs for help rolling off of him as rain would a glass pane. This is the time he's been waiting for. He feels no need to step in and ruin it. The horses are nearly set to ride off when one man gives a sharp shout and gives chase to something. Meliodas quickly realizes who the sole person left is and watches indifferent as the man brings Martha to the ground. Her shrieks for help then pleads for mercy all fade abruptly as a metal gleams in the sunlight then a sharp spray of crimson in the air. Meliodas deduces they must've realized she was a twin and not what they are looking for.

With the town efficiently cleared of people the wagons pull off into the distance and Meliodas trails silently behind them not once looking back.

~.~.~

By nightfall he's sufficiently woven himself into the midst of an underground prison. The two guards lurking in the trees near the entranceway were simple to dispatch and now he walks on silent feet through the tunnels furthest from the prisoners but towards where he hopes people in charge might be stationed by the feel of things. The arrival of spring hasn't quite set into the night causing the cold to sink heavily into the bones of the place. The stone walls are tight and damp making it more impossible to stay concealed. And despite the place being grungy and dank it's lit relatively well with flickering torches mounted on the walls.

Meliodas sighs as he hears guards chatting at the cross section ahead. Inky gaze swiveling around he looks for a place to hide or debates whether to kill them but risk leaving a mess. A split second passes and they appear at the opening of the hall neither being aware as they walk through of the demon lurking on the roof above their heads.

"You know, this is a high paying job, but I hate killing so many good women," one comments with an edge to his tone.

"It is as shame, but I suspect our employers have something against them. They're looking for a certain one and won't give us a description. I mean, wouldn't that be easier than taking whole towns and returning a good lot of them dead?" The other rationalizes as their voices bounce off the walls the further away the get.

The first one shrugs regretfully, "Yeah, they don't know what kind of trouble they'll bring obviously."

"Or maybe they do and they just expect us humans to take the fall." The second growls as they turn to the next hall.

Meliodas grips the beam as he stares ahead in thought, his hair pulled down in wild curves by gravity. _'So the goddesses are looking for her too, but why? Why curse my father and demand I look for her if they were just going to look for her themselves? There must be more that I'm missing here. And I still need a description to go on; although I doubt I'll be able to just sneak up on them and listen. I'll have to find it some other way.'_

The world briefly whirls around him before his weight presses onto his feet in a smooth landing. Taking the twisting turns he made before, Meliodas makes note of the two pure auras dwelling further down in the prison before taking his leave as easily as he came.


	6. Chapter 6

**~6~**

Thirty two days and thirty one nights. Is that really how long it's been? Has she really been counting? Elizabeth lets out a deep breath over a mug of lemon juice she squeezed from lemon after lemon and managed to not get in her eyes—that time. It's rather difficult not to think of the demon whose eyes tell her nothing and everything all the same and whose touch could be utterly deadly but when her palm is pressed against his it's like... "Magic..." She breathes with a contented smile eyes fully closed to recall the rush of sparks that danced like stars in the sky all within her being. It reminded her of the way Merlin tries to urge her to draw on her own magic and how the golden luminance feels buzzing in her veins. But it was so much _more_ and she can't quite explain it no matter how hard she tries and she curses her limited understanding all over again.

"Elizabeth are you all right?" The off beat banging that had become white noise to her by now abruptly pauses as the kind tone replaces it.

Elizabeth looks towards her kitchen where the sun rays shone across the counters and floor almost blindingly. They also glow upon the red haired purple eyed young man fixing the mechanism in her sink already having done so upstairs in her washroom. Elizabeth returns the smile though her fingers squeeze around the ceramic mug a bit harsher. "I'm fine Arthur, just thinking... aloud!"

He chuckles with the sweetness of candy and waves her worries off. "I do that sometimes. It's no problem at all! I should be finished with this soon and you'll no longer have to worry about going to the well for all of you water needs."

Elizabeth nods opening and closing her mouth as if to find the right words before settling on another gracious, "Thank you."

He settles back beneath the basin with a shake of his head, "There's no need."

Once the clanks start up once more Elizabeth chews her lower lip. She's not worried about all of the silky stuff. Arthur is kind and friendly, but discovered her home on a simple ride through the woods. In hindsight she shouldn't have answered the door, but she thought... Well it no longer matters. He's a noble that's visiting neighboring towns, but he's come to her home quite often in the past month. His company is nice, but with all of her secrets so closely knit there she's always in edge. Already he's noticed her flower placements, her silverware all shoved in a glass container she thought was pretty and decorative but discovered was a _vase_ for plants, her fruit and vegetables all shoved in a _breadbasket,_ and she doesn't want to recount his appraisal of her washroom. It's not that he outright judges her, she just gets the distinct feeling that he knows she's odd. _'And I would rather he not ask why,'_ she thinks while flicking her gaze towards his working figure.

Other than that he seemed really interested on trying to get to know her, eating lunch with her from time to time, and going on strolls through the forest. Elizabeth thinks he wants to be friends from the kind smiles that make his cheeks red to the brushes of his hand on the small of her back. The only weird—or perhaps something she can't understand—thing is when he takes her hand and kisses the back of it in his departure. It's an odd form of goodbyes that she's never experienced before and she's been meaning to ask him about it. His touch is nice and clearly he's strong, but every time Arthur grasps her hand she thinks of Meliodas and it's not the same, and it makes her miss him all the more.

Arthur would be a nice friend, but he shouldn't become attached as she'll outlive him. Him finding her home was a terrible coincidence.

A rapping sounds on her front door startling a gasp from her. Arthur stops working and peeks at her with a raised eyebrow. "Were you expecting someone?"

Elizabeth shakily sets down her cup, her heartbeat suddenly too erratic to be able to hold it steady. "No, I... I wasn't."

Arthur makes a move to pull himself free from his work, "Then I'll answer it—"

Elizabeth leaps from her set eyes wild and bright with hope she can't contain as she shakes her head, "N-no that's fine! I'll do it," she gasps hurrying for the wooden barrier.

The door handle jiggles loudly in her haste and when she yanks the door open elation explodes in her belly, her nerves all singing with zeal at the sight of him in her doorway. Golden hair falling in unruly sweeps around his head, sharp jaw and soft cheeks, all of which her fingers itch to caress and memorize the feel and shape of by heart. His lips are set in a gentle line and those eyes make her smile tremble with emotion as he peers up at her with an almost tender resonance within. Elizabeth promptly flings herself into him with a cry of his name, pressing her nose to the spot behind his ear for his scent. Her hands grip the material at his back in an effort to hide her shivers when he wraps his arms around her waist and holds her to his firm body. "You're here! You're okay! And warm and whole! I was... so worried, Meliodas. I m-missed you," she confesses thickly into his neck with gasping breaths. She hadn't noticed how cold her insides felt until being held like this and the strange pull in her gut charged to life.

Meliodas doesn't answer verbally instead sweeping her up in his arms as she squeals into his neck, her hands adjusting to a more comfortable hold in him doing so. Instead of taking her inside, Meliodas walks her further around her porch to the bench sitting there nicely. He places her down then takes a seat beside her that feels a hundred leagues apart but is only a few inches. Still Elizabeth twitches and moves closer until their thighs and shoulders touch and the growing ache inside her lessens. When he looks at her she feels her skin prickle and heat flush across her cheeks, but there's no judgement radiating from him. There's even a quirk of his lips and a sigh that feels playful and makes her smile until her cheeks hurt. "I said I missed you, right?" The words practically burst free in a sweet, flustered cadence.

Meliodas studies her silently before lifting a hand haltingly towards her face where the tips of his fingers graze feather light over her once battered cheek. The sparks that twist and twirl in her belly are almost dizzying. "I missed you as well," he admits softly while lowering his hand, "I'm glad you weren't hurt in my absence."

Elizabeth grasps his hand in both of hers pressing her lips together as if to be stern when really it's just to fight off the bliss of hearing his returned sentiment and worries, "Then don't leave for so long!" She moves so that her legs are pulled up onto the bench beneath her long white skirt and she's leaning against his shoulder with his hand still held tight in one of hers. The other is brought up to show off her fingers, specifically her pointer, "And I did cut myself with a knife... But I'm all healed up now! You can't even see it really. I was always told I was a fast healer," she explains in a silvery tone.

She quiets however when Meliodas grasps her hand, his thumb pressing into her palm to hold hers securely in his. If her heart wasn't beating frantically at the touch before she thinks it stops outright when he brings her finger to his lips and gives it a simple kiss. His lips on her skin kindles a strange but good—definitely good—feeling in her blood that renders her dazed and speechless as she gazes at his face for what he might feel.

Meliodas' eyebrows appear furrowed perhaps in thought or maybe confusion as he thumbs her palm in steady sweeps that makes her twitch and a low pleased sound threaten to break forth as he seemingly adds fire to the kindling. _'_ _What is he doing to me? Arthur's lips never did this and neither did his touch...'_

"What is the purpose for placing your lips on another person? I don't understand," he sighs and it sounds more than lost such tugs at her heart.

Elizabeth looks at his hand cradling hers in his lap and moves her other to wrap around his shoulders instead so her head rests right beside his. "Well it certainly made it feel like my wound truly healed. I don't know either, but maybe it's just something we can figure out together," she states hopeful, allowing herself to breathe when he nods in agreement. "We still have so much to talk about and I still want to help you."

"You're right," She feels his shoulders slope beneath her and she wonders what's shifting inside of him. "Elizabeth, who is that man in your house? I can smell him all over you," he questions slow and precise and she notices the caress of his hand missing.

Elizabeth feels a stab of ice run through her at the question as her eyes widen on the glade spread out before them. She'd forgotten completely about Arthur's presence inside so swept up in the return of Meliodas! And now Meliodas seems stiff about it for some reason. Elizabeth leans a bit forward so that she can get a better view of Meliodas face while she tries to explain how she first met Arthur.

However thudding footsteps along the boards of the porch approaching the two tighten her throat and draws her gaze to Arthur. His grin usually bright is a bit pinched eyes his eyes linger on the two, his hands propped on his hips in an easy gesture. "Sorry to interrupt you and your... friend?"

Elizabeth raises a brow at his strange pause which makes him loosen and his words come forth with a spring.

"I finished up in the kitchen, so you'll be happy to know long trips to the well will no longer be needed."

Elizabeth bounces a bit as her fingers curl in Meliodas' shoulder, and she notices him watching Arthur with utmost boredom out of the corner of her eye. "I very much appreciate what you've done for me, Arthur! I had no idea water could be accessed so easily."

Arthur laughs with a kind air. "It was always apart of the foundation. There just needed to be a little work done to get it up and running."

Elizabeth's bottom lip protrudes just the slightest as she looks down in thought, her silver hair slipping over her bare shoulders to rest over the crimson sweater cut evenly around the top of her chest and upper arms. "I am going to miss bathing outside in the sun though..."

She misses Arthur splutter with cheeks a fiery red. Meliodas however is taking note where she isn't.

A breath catches in her lungs when Meliodas' fingers curl in between hers still atop his leg. So busy staring at their hands locked in a new way while her heart beats escalate, she doesn't catch on for once that his tone is simply a veneer of calm. "I would like to know, Arthur why it's relaxing to know that Elizabeth and I are friends? And why exactly it's an exciting prospect for Elizabeth to bathe outdoors?" Meliodas tilts his head just the slightest as gravel roughens his voice enough for Elizabeth to glance up at him with concern swelling in her eyes. "You forced it down swiftly but I noticed your pupils dilate long enough. So tell me, if you'd be so willing to oblige me, what is your true purpose for being here? Certainly not just doing her favors."

Elizabeth has never once heard the bite now attempting to swallow Meliodas' tone. His eyes normally calm voids of boundless ice, chip and crack as a viciousness swirls forth. If it weren't for his fingers woven with hers so carefully she'd be downright terrified to her core from the change. But as it stands she worries as to what this flare of his will bring forth.

"You're nice and kind, _genteel_ ," Meliodas chews the word out, "But that doesn't mean you're above manipulation."

"It's not manipulation demon," Arthur grounds out firmly no longer sunshine smiles and bubbly laughs, "Elizabeth get away from him! He's—!" The cross like sword Elizabeth has always seen strapped to Arthur's hip is drawn.

And not a second later Elizabeth no longer feels comforting fingers twined with hers as Meliodas' sword sings through the air to ring shrilly in a clash against Arthur's. A moment later the immaculate sword is sent sailing towards the glade and the tip of Meliodas blade points intently at Arthur's throat.

This all happened in a blink, maybe less to Elizabeth, and she finds her fingers digging into the smooth wood of the bench as the wind blows silver strands before her petrified gaze.

"If not manipulation, what then?" Meliodas drawls looking for all the world like he's at ease as he holds his sword at Arthur's pale throat. But his eyes tell a completely different story. One wrong move, one wrong word, and...

A bead of sweat rolls down Arthur's temple. "It's how you court someone! I would never hurt Elizabeth!"

The shout snaps Elizabeth into motion as she bolts from her seat to try and stand in Meliodas' way which causes the demon to go rigid. Her palms settle on his chest and she starts to push and push and—why is he a brick wall?! "Meliodas stop this now! He doesn't deserve to be hurt over trying to be my friend!"

Meliodas seems to draw in like a morning glory without sun, and even though his eyes had put a hellish storm to shame... he'd still looked more than beautiful in her eyes. Not that he doesn't look that way otherwise. The confusing notions tremble her heart and pink her skin in the time it takes Meliodas to lower his sword and curl his arm around her waist pulling her right against him—and subsequently away from Arthur. Not that she notices as the scent of damp woods fills her nose at his shoulder more pleasant than any smell she's encountered before during her time in the Celestial Realm and after.

"He didn't say friend, Elizabeth. He said _courting_ ," Meliodas corrects her.

She drags herself away from the scent in order to face Arthur who gazes at them as if he's just swallowed a watermelon whole. Elizabeth stares back entirely confused at the unpleasant expression, "Courting? What's that?" Her voice is genuinely high with curiosity though.

It looks as if a lemon was added to the mix.

Meliodas taps his fingers at her hip in a staccato drum as he carefully explains what he knows to her, "I believe it's a human thing where they interact closely for a time before going into marriage."

Now Elizabeth jolts with a hint of understanding. "Oh! That has to do with being a couple right?"

"Right, Elizabeth and you're already one with Meliodas," Arthur smiles but to her it looks like the clouds just moved over his usually bright expression.

Meliodas' hand stills on her hip and she looks to see him retreating inwards, his thoughts like a dark shadow shrouding his eyes. This makes her swallow as her stomach tightens. She gazes back at Arthur lips pressed into a perplexed grin. "No we're friends." She doesn't know the first thing about what couples truly are, their purpose is, and what they do. She's been meaning to bring it up to Merlin, but so many other curious matters always pop up.

Arthur looks off towards the sunlit forest for a moment before sighing out, "Right." He meets her eyes and something in them tells her he's going to say goodbye and it might be for good. Her shoulders wilt a bit at this. "Well my vacation is just about over and although I didn't do what I set out to, it was truly a pleasure to have met you Elizabeth." Instead of taking her hand and kissing it like usual, he bows before her then shines her a last smile.

It's only when he's walking away, collecting his sword and then his tied horse, does she think to call out with a wave, "Goodbye Arthur Pendragon! It was nice meeting you too!"

She watches as his horse rears before they gallop away and out of sight. Elizabeth shifts her gaze to Meliodas who still seems as if he's unreachable. Her fingers stretch out before she even knows it brushing his warm cheek as his eyes fall shut. "What's wrong?" She whispers gently.

He shakes his head, opening his eyes to peer at her simply. "Nothing. I was just thinking."

She drops her hand and nods with a deep breath. "Okay, then we should go inside and have some lemonade while you tell me what's important to keep you away for stretches of time," she insists while leading the way.

"And you'll tell me why you're the most unique human I've encountered," Meliodas responds with hardly a beat as they pass the threshold and he closes the door behind them. "And you'll tell me why you didn't seem to mind how I said courting was a human thing... as if you weren't human yourself to have known about it."

Elizabeth nearly trips over her feet her heart having jumped to speeds at a lightning pace. "That's not—! You must've misunderstood," she states firmly though with an edge to her voice as she bustles in her kitchen with trembling palms. _'_ _You're a terrible liar Elizabeth and he knows that. Just talk calmly and not panicked and he won't know a thing. He may know that you don't "age" do to magic, but he can't find out I'm not human.'_

She sees him come stand by the table where her forgotten lemonade resides. "Really? Then tell me why you don't seem to know any human customs despite being one."

She collects a glass from a draw and goes to the picture to fill it with a cautious hand. Then she swells her chest with air and marches to stand before Meliodas where she plants the glass down on the wood and meets the flat eyebrows even stare with a firm set gaze of her own. "All right. I was abandoned as a baby and raised in isolation by a-a woman—an old one—until she died. From there I was on my own and managed to scrape by with what little I knew."

Her tense position holds under his scrutiny. However the roam of his eyes over her contour and shape feels suddenly intense and sear under her skin. He blinks when he meets her eyes once more then collects his glass with a small nod. "Thank you." The words are his approval and she relaxes her posture, snagging her own mug with a wide curve of her lips.

"Okay then let's have a seat and hear all about your absence!" She practically glides to the sofa, sinking into the cushions while Meliodas strides with all the motivation of a motionless stone. He has a seat just as stiff as one.

Elizabeth can't stomach a sip at the sight and places her cup in the wood adorning the flasked plant before them. Her hand goes behind him and presses right along the rigid line of his spine, then slowly she begins to brush her palm up and down then broadening in sweeps when he lets out a sigh as the straight line of his posture becomes a curve. Her eyes linger along the side of his face noting glimmers of something cross his face. "Is this okay?" She breaks the quiet still.

"Yes. You're warm. Nice. I like you," he breathes, clipped—but not unkind—with eyes closed.

Her hand stumbles with her heartbeat and she finds herself grinning in content, once again assured of their friendship. "I like you too Meliodas."

He takes a moment to drink drawing her eyes strangely to the way his tongue swipes over his lips after, before they dart down in fluster. His exhale catches her attention prompting his start in speech, "As I mentioned before I'm searching for someone. That someone is very valuable to a certain race and someone my father is pushing me to find do to a curse of his own."

Elizabeth sits straight with her hand resting at his hip catching his warmth through the thick tunic wrapped around him. "I see. And you have no idea where this person might be?" She lifts a thin brow and tilts her head as her voice fills with interest.

Meliodas gives a shake of his head. "I have various leads, but nothing set in stone."

Elizabeth breaks into a grin and slides her hip into his. "Maybe I can help! I know I'm no good with... well a lot, but another take on things can bring new ideas!"

Meliodas stiffens like a calm you'd expect before a storm then very carefully he sets his glass down beside her mug. His eyes fall fully upon hers only a few inches apart but it's enough for her to be consumed in the wealth of disapproval lurking there. His tone doesn't climb past his level volume but he somehow makes her feel small beneath it regardless. "Absolutely not. It's far too dangerous. And after the last time—" His hands twitch and it's like watching fire being breathed through him in that small flicker. The fury and _something_ wild and raw and unbridled for her— _over her_ —leaves her momentarily dazed and breathless. "I won't stand for it. And what I'll be dealing with now will be much worse than humans. I'm certain I'll run into goddesses soon enough."

The light and fluttering beats in her gut all drop like stones to her toes. "Goddesses...?" Her voice sounds airier than she feels.

Meliodas gives a curt nod, eyes smooth pools of ink once more. "As nice as it would be to have you around, it's for the best that you stay away and safe, Elizabeth."

A sharp exhale leaves her when his hand encircles her own and squeezes briefly. There's nothing to read from his face, but the motion, there's emotion behind it. She knows it. "You worry... you care about me." She states with breathless confidence.

It takes a moment for him to murmur, "I suppose I do."

Elizabeth doesn't hesitate to comb her other fingers through his unruly hair with a bashful smile, "You feel angry for me?"

Meliodas must know what vein of thought she's traveling down because he explains in a candid tone, "Anger comes easy to me because it aides with killing."

Her smile turns pained but she tries to find more in his hand around hers, his arm around her waist, his lips on her skin, when she presses her forehead to his and all she can see are his fathomless eyes. "What about anything else? Have you felt anything else you can... you can hold onto?"

Meliodas holds her stare as she waits to hear what he says with baited breath. Then, "I would think about you when I was away. The feel of your hand in mine, the curve of your cheek, your hair, and your eyes... I would just think of you and I think I was restless under the calm, under the draining numb. I missed you." He tells her like a whispered wind and she feels her skin warm.

"When I saw you and you held me it was like a weight lifted off my lungs and I could breathe again. You were worried I would be hurt, but somewhere inside of me was ready to kill if there was another bruise on your flesh. Anger comes to me easy, remember?" He tilts his head as if to emphasize his question, further mussing their hair together and brushing their noses against one another's as her heart skips a beat. "I don't really understand much... why I like to be close to you. Why the thought of losing you is —"

He abruptly cuts off and she can tell it's for his own reasons and not because of his curse. Elizabeth slides her hand to his chest and places it against a heartbeat. "It's okay. That's a soft spot, I understand. There's something about me that you're connected to that allows you to feel slightly or more intensely. We just have to make it more constant. We have to fight that curse of yours."

Meliodas bars off the windows to his soul behind pale lids as he leans his head over her shoulder and presses his palms into her back to hold her against him. Her eyes stare wide ahead at his initiative. "I think you're optimistic. I'm okay with the little I've experienced now. It's been _years_ , Elizabeth. I'm okay." His voice reminds her of an even blanket of snow on the ground, undisturbed by the prospect of having so little.

And then a flash of the little hellfire he used to be surfaces across her eyes and she folds her arms around him and shakes her head against his shoulder. "No that's not true. I remember how you used to be even if it was brief. You would fight for more. I know it."

He breathes a laugh and it's more belly fluttering than any of Arthur's charming mirth ever was. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I would like to know why your heart seems to stutter so often around me, why your cheeks become so red, why you looked near faint when my lips brushed your healed skin... and maybe even why my own pulse thrums when I gaze into your eyes." His voice drops into a hush making her sudden spike in breathing practically thunderous to her ears.

She feels prickles running all over her flesh and a fire blazing down her face and at the tip of her ears. He's too observant, much to observant! Elizabeth trembles in his arms from embarrassed fluster, not certain as to _why_ him noticing her reactions to him make her feel nervous. But she hides her nose against his neck all the same and curls her fingers at his back as her breathing rasps.

His thumb massages a place between her shoulder blades that's both relaxing and stirs a strange yearning in her blood. "Breathe, remember? Or do you want me to put you to bed until you calm down?" The tone he draws upon is casual perhaps reaching for humor.

But she pulls back to see his face at the prospect, flames of excitement suddenly lit within her. "Yes! And you can come with me!" The words are out in the air between them filling it with tension the longer she gazes into his eyes rimmed in sunlight. The heavy stillness between them is what spins her thoughts into motion and turns her eyes down to the ground. Maybe that's not something they can do? Meliodas hasn't visibly responded and her offer was pretty rushed... "Is that okay? We can take a nap and then have a late lunch or dinner together. I promise I know how to cook." Her voice drifts with a sweet cadence sounding almost meek in her ears.

And then she peeks her eyes up to see Meliodas watching her almost contemplative. The intricacies of his mind are bountiful, rendering her in awe every time she notices that age old crackle of power in his eyes. He looks at her now, hands sliding up her arms, having come to his decision probably moments after she made the initial offer. "Well let's go then."

He rises with precise movements leaving his hand out for her to take. Elizabeth stares at it with a deep swallow before fitting her soft hand into the rough cradle of his, relishing in the zinging sparks that bounce between them in doing so. His hold is rigid and stiff until she curls her hand and his relaxes, adjusting to her as always.

When he begins guiding her up the stairs she follows along with anticipation unusually high in her system.


	7. Chapter 7

**~7~**

He'd lead her up the stairs to the room with strange trinkets lining the chests and desk, a giant mirror mounted above the bed, and ribbons of cloth strung up around the room to name a few things that instantly catch his eye as... different. But despite him taking the lead Elizabeth is the one to set him down on the right side of the bed, the one that faces the window. She stands before him with the sunlight glinting around her graceful curves and his breathing draws tight at such magnificence. He doesn't quite known what to do sitting there, plain and still, in the presence of his... his what exactly?

Meliodas drags his eyes to hers to find what he always does there. Acceptance of his nature, caring for him, an unwavering trust-things he doesn't deserve-and his hearts quiver in his frost bitten chest. _Precious_. She is precious to him. No matter what defines them she's precious to him. He wants to tell her this before the trembling feeling goes thin in his blood and just becomes _words_ despite meaning something to his _soul._ But Elizabeth lifts a hand and carefully guides her fingers into his hair as her eyes soften and her lips form into the smile that makes him want to do anything... anything she says...

"Get comfortable, and take off your boots! We're going to be lying down in a minute," she insists sweet as chocolate.

His eyes lid as he exhales and nods, agreeing. Elizabeth bounces on the balls of her feet briefly. "Okay I'm going to do the same!"

He expects her to mean the extraction of her boots, so he doesn't immediately watch where she walks off to when he bends down and begins the systematic process of taking one black boot then the other off then neatly placing them to the side. He goes as far as removing his scabbard as well and placing it down when he finally catches her moving shadow. There's a changing screen in the room he hadn't given much mind to until now.

His eyes observe the dark sensuous shadow with rapt attention, following the sloping lines that make his throat unusually dry. From the scattered clothes all about he realizes she's most likely bare and the perk of her chest and swell of her rear cause his blood to sing with an unknown heat. His fingers tense at his sides as she move, bending to gather something at her feet, showing the cascade of hair flow around her like a river before she's up again with clothes in hand. Meliodas detects a peculiar urgent notion in his gaze finding himself eyeing her frame from top to bottom repeatedly at this. Then she slides something over her shoulders and he inhales, realizing he hadn't been breathing properly.

Meliodas looks inward noting the restlessness lurking below the desolate calm like he'd had when he was away. But this time it's different somehow. Upon feeling a persistent throb in his groin compelling him to look down, he discovers why. His eyes stare blank and indifferent at the noticeable bulge in his crotch. He blinks and it doesn't vanish so he decides it's indeed real before stiffly sitting straight once more. _'I wonder if I'm sick?'_ He doesn't feel sick however, just a little on edge. _'Maybe Elizabeth can calm me down.'_ He's always calm, but it's not natural, like a vast wasteland wiped of all life. Empty. Nothing. That's his normal. But _Elizabeth calm_ is like lying with her under the shade of a tree as a breeze wraps around them. Soft. Toasty. He wants that whenever he can.

Elizabeth peeks around the metal holding the curtain in place with a sheepish grin and pink cheeks that makes the pulse in him strengthen, "I hope this is okay. I always change in front of my friend thoughtlessly and she always tells me, "You're lucky I'm a woman!" so I thought this time..." She trails off into a giggle of tinkling bells that loosens his posture considerably. Who is this friend though?

He nods that her choice is okay with him. He's seen woman with hardly any clothes before and never felt inclined to pay them any mind. He can't quite understand why Elizabeth invokes a different response from him nonetheless.

When she bounces from behind the curtain in a pink gown that ends at her knees and tackles him to the bed with a shriek of laughter, the mirror on the roof displays his expression perfectly in that moment. His eyes are set steady, his mouth in a comfortable line, but there's a slight glow in his eyes that's usually absent. So the lack of expression is okay with him. The body wriggling on top of him is okay with him too. What is she doing exactly...?

The first poke comes at the side of his rib and his body twitches slightly, his eyes going up to see Elizabeth with hair in beautiful disarray all around her and blue eyes glinting with playful mischief. Once motionless beneath her, he actually shifts with a breathless gasp recalling his odd ailment when it grazes her thigh and shoots flames through his blood in a heart stopping way. Weird...

"This has to work! I'm certain you're at least ticklish! I've seen kids do this all the time, it's fun!" She grins around her teeth and starts to dance her fingers up and down his sides.

Meliodas for his part tries very hard to give her... _something_ for her efforts instead of lying there like a dead fish. He understands that he's supposed to break into laughter and each poke and stroke along his ribs does send a diluted message to his nerves about the sensation before shutting it down abruptly. Scrunching up his lips in the best imitation of a smile-because she looks so happy and hopeful-he starts up a sound of laughter he believes is pretty decent, moving his hands to her hips automatically to hold her steady.

He'd hoped she'd buy it but her smile wanes into a protruding lower lip as she stares all displeased down at him. "That was the worse excuse for laughter I've ever heard, Meliodas. You sounded like a dying whale." She goes frank.

A genuine laugh tugs at his ribs for a moment and she smiles down at him softly. "Have you heard that before?"

She shakes her head and twists the material of his tunic slightly in her fingers. "No, but that was still awful. I can't believe you're not ticklish." She slides her body off of his unintentionally pressing into the sensitive place.

He can't immediately respond as his fingers lock her in place while he sighs breathless, seeing the lidded almost dazed expression in the mirror above. He lets her move away a second later mind searching for answers to his response as he swallows, "Laughter would be a hindrance in my efficiency."

"What's wrong?" Her tone is stern. She noticed then.

"Nothing. I don't know." He answers honestly while turning his head to fix her with a careful gaze.

Elizabeth returns his study with creased brows. "Anything you're feeling?"

Meliodas opens his mouth and for the first time isn't immediately prepared with an answer. His tongue wets his lips as the restless urge simmers beneath the surface and his focus once more centers on Elizabeth whose eyes are oddly on his mouth. "I want something. It doesn't matter. You promised a nap then a meal." He recites.

She blinks as if coming to. "Right! Come on!" She moves to the head of the bed and starts turning down the sheets prompting him to move towards her as well. There's plenty of plump pillows and space for two this being proven when he sinks under the beige covers lying on his back and there's a gap of cold before Elizabeth's lying figure on her side.

His eyes stay focused on the mirror-on Elizabeth-and how she curls naturally while he lies as stiff as death, her eyes eventually drifting shut as she sighs a wish for him to sleep well. He watches the rise and fall of her chest under the sheets gaining his calm in her peace and is rewarded a contented existence when she moves in sleep to his side, her arm winding over his stomach and her head resting beside his on the pillows so every breath she exhales tingles his flesh. Surprisingly sleep engulfs him with her presence and he discovers that his bed is more than warmed with her in it. It's also wonderfully luminescent.

That's why when he next awakens to the cool tones of evening and that feeling is utterly absent from his senses no matter how far his power stretches—his body quaking from head to toe, his breathing impossible to catch, as his thoughts whirl with rage inducing possibilities for her disappearance—Meliodas feels it perfectly reasonable that his first instinct is to go on a bloodthirsty relentless hunt to find her. Indecision and volatile reactions are rendered nonexistent as he climbs out of bed smelling of freshly bloomed flowers and a forest after a rain. His scabbard is secured and his boots are replaced before he leaves Elizabeth's home behind with a sole purpose of finding her.

~.~.~

Elizabeth nuzzles her nose into the cushion under her head and further tightens her arm. It takes her sleep addled mind a little longer to realize the warmth she was pleasantly clinging to is missing and the wondrous smell has been replaced by aged parchment and sprinklings of magic. Familiar but not at all what she wants right now.

"Elizabeth, my dear you're finally up."

Elizabeth peels her eyes open to see the navy cushion of the chaise she knew would be there and turns to give Merlin a deeply set frown. "Merlin, I'm happy to see you... but what am I doing here?" Her tone is beyond puzzled as she fidgets with the hem of her nightgown.

Merlin's rose colored lips merely twist in a slim smile as she handles a notepad and quill with a tube of crimson having been clearly put through the paces already before her. Elizabeth lifts a hand to her arm with a long exhale feeling the strip of bandages already wound in place. Merlin is too good when it comes to extractions like that. "Well you see, I was in town and heard some interesting things from a friend of mine... I also knew it was time to check on the concealing I placed upon you, and obtaining a fresh tube of your blood was a mere bonus on my part." Merlin explains with a mysterious twinkle in her golden eyes.

Elizabeth lets out a breath as her fingers express her nerves. This is all fine and dandy on any other day, but Meliodas doesn't know where she is and what if he wakes up? Won't he be worried? "Anything unusual?" She asks halfhearted, her thoughts not all there.

Merlin rests her writing utensils down. "Yes, in fact. I found your power stationary so I knew it was okay to transport you here. But there was also a power that could consume you, the whole forest, and the town over in a blink right beside you. And that's putting it mildly. Is there anything you want to tell me, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth turns wide eyes in Merlin who's slim eyebrow remains raised. "I... Well made a new friend and we were taking a nap together."

Merlin's gaze softens in that way that makes Elizabeth flush as if she's said something overly naive. "That would explain the increased hormones in your blood, which has never occurred before."

Now Elizabeth sits straighter, concerned. "Is that bad?!" Her pitch is higher as her fingers curl against her thighs.

A sound of mirth escapes Merlin gently and it soothes Elizabeth's worries. "No! It just means you're sexually excited and have explored that by the sound of thing...?"

When Elizabeth only stares with open eyes of non comprehension, Merlin levels her with a flat stare. Merlin lifts two fingers and the floating candles around the edge of the room glow bright, their light flickering off the various glass around-empty or otherwise filled with pulsing liquids Elizabeth has learned are not meant for drinking. Then she flicks her fingers in a direction behind her where large beige spreads of paper unravel for Elizabeth to study carefully. The images present are not unlike the anatomy diagrams Merlin showed her when she was a preteen. But these hold a more fluid approach to them and show both men and woman tangled in strange positions that cause Elizabeth to tilt her head as her lips part.

"Judging by your expression to learn you haven't done any of this yourself," Merlin cuts in while floating over to an empty spot of wood on one of the many tables where she sits with ankles crossed. "So you're saying that a man just climbed into your bed and _slept_ beside you-your friend, as you put it? Either he's incredibly noble or naive. Perhaps both." Merlin ponders partly to Elizabeth and mostly to herself.

Elizabeth drags her eyes away from the images of what people can actually do together-she's still curious as to how it all works and why-in order to push herself up to pad on bare feet closer to Merlin. "You don't understand. He's... different. And I really need to get back to him before he discovers me missing." She chews on her lower lip at the thought. Angry comes easy to him. What if he thinks she ran away from him and he's upset with her?

"You have yet to tell me who this person is, Elizabeth. I've tried to help you develop your magic over the years despite your reluctance." Merlin places a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder as her eyes become understanding. "I know you want nothing to do with your past after your life if being a prisoner to them, but you are still exceptionally powerful, I can feel your potential. If only you would find the motivation to train... And with whoever this being is so near to you, that would be a very wise choice."

Elizabeth feels a pit of unsettle tighten in her belly at the prospect, but... "You're right. I should know how to handle myself if I must. I can't hide forever." Her voice thins to a breathless tremble as her eyes stare forward to a place she hasn't wished to think of ever again.

Merlin's fingers squeeze briefly. "It'll be fine. Your magic wants to be set free. You simply have to discover what it is you want to do with it." Merlin lets her go and drifts towards the manila papers with a hand to her chin. "Now go fetch yourself a light meal and I'll go into a brief overview of these before I send you home. We'll worry about training once your friend leaves."

Elizabeth hesitates before nodding, knowing she promised to cook for Meliodas. This shouldn't take too much longer and hopefully she'll make it back before he awakens. Merlin's kitchen is neat and orderly touched not as often as it should be. The objects are also placed strangely-or to Elizabeth they are. When Elizabeth first discovered her home she designed things how she thought they should be. There was no one to tell her right from wrong, she was free to do as she pleased after all. But she later discovered her design choices might not have been proper, but fixing things and adjusting to what is viewed as correct is easier said than done. So it takes Elizabeth a little longer than normal to collect a cup of apple cider and a few muffins.

It took her all of ten minutes and when she steps back through the doorway the wall adjacent to her explodes in a roar of black flames that bite and snap outwards in rage.

The chaise she awoke in is torn through, the wooden tables are flipped viciously and crushed to bits against the walls threatening to cave from the impact, and glass and liquid substances are sent spiraling. Most of the candles are doused in the havoc, only a few remaining near Elizabeth as her eyes widen as far as they can go. The tray in her hands tumble to the ground in the spike of terror within. Merlin is swift to draw her power orb as she whirls to face the threat, but there's a blur of movement that flits towards her like a dark streak.

Elizabeth only catches a glint of metal before Merlin is forced to teleport and another explosion thunders in Elizabeth's ears sending her stumbling back as it rattles through her bones. Heart racing she glares determined through the smoke rising from the debris at Merlin forced to be driven away again and again as the blur moves so rapidly with no hesitation, no pause for thought, it's intent to strike and kill.

Elizabeth rasps a breath as she understands, as she realizes what this attack is all about. Her trembling gaze falls on Merlin who roars with strength and power, her body pulsing with violets mid air as her palm thrusts in her assailant's direction, _"Shock Stinger!"_ A streak of what looks like lightning arcs through the air a split second from impacting the streak of deadly motion.

And then he comes to a stop, his face lit in the hard luminance of Merlin's magic. Ink swirls in rough markings down his face. His eyes blaze with unbridled wrath with his mouth a jagged snarl. It's only a split second observation, but enough for Elizabeth's heart to lodge in her throat stopping her next breath. Meliodas swipes his sword impacting the magic sending a tinkling through the air so sweet and deceptive. Merlin screams as she takes her own attack, plummeting from the air just as Meliodas charges forward with his sword drawn back.

That's when something snaps inside of Elizabeth wholly steadying as her fingers curl at her sides. " _Meliodas, stop this! RIGHT. NOW._ " Elizabeth's voice is bathed in a power utterly different than Merlin's. There's a command to her tone that's striking and compelling, stemming from her core.

Meliodas stills allowing Merlin to crumple to the ground unhindered. Then silence as the ruins of Merlin's workshop settle around them. Elizabeth breathes harshly as she pins her gaze to his back, her body subtly filling with quivers as the adrenaline leaves her jittery and unbalanced, not knowing what to do with herself. Meliodas had worried and it was far worse than she assumed it would be. He was ready to kill and this shouldn't surprise her, but the sheer magnitude of his response resonates to her bones and she feels light headed. "How did... you find me?" She breathes softly though it sounds deafening in the still of the room.

Meliodas twitches, then turns until he faces her. The markings are nowhere to be seen. There's a battle raging in his eyes that twists her heart to see. It looks as if a backwash of terror and uncertainty are slowly dragged under the toxic spell within him. She doesn't see him move. Only the clatter of his sword on the ground is her warning before he's right there, arms wrapped around her and face pressed above her chest. He's shaking and she would put it on the cold seeping through the gaping hole of the room if not for what she saw being subdued in his gaze. Her arms encircle him and she holds him close pressing her cheek to his locks of tickling hair as she hopes desperately to blanket him in comfort.

"I woke up and you were gone, just gone. I couldn't feel you anywhere and I think I felt afraid. It tried to shake apart my insides as I tried to think of what happened to you," he tells her slowly, evenly, no signs of a tremble in his voice. But she cuddles him closer anyway, knowing he needs the contact right now. "I thought someone had taken you because of me and was hurting you. I smell your blood here. You were hurt-"

She shakes her head quickly and shushes him, feeling his muscles become rigid as his voice goes from smooth to harsh in a blink. "No she's my friend. The one I mentioned before, remember? She didn't hurt me. She just tested my blood."

Meliodas exhales a warm breath over her skin, his lips grazing the skin above the edge of her gown and she jolts with a flare of awareness. Skin prickling oddly she decides to pull back slightly so he can gaze up into her eyes instead. His gaze is deep and lost pulling a strong sense of yearning within her which confuses and surprises her.

"I'm sorry. It's just when I searched the forest nearing the town, and felt the odd distortion of magic that wasn't there before, I knew someone was hiding and assumed if you were there it was for nefarious purposes."

Elizabeth creases her brows, and runs her thumb along the side of his neck until that look is hidden behind pale lids. "It's okay. I understand now. But I think Merlin needs help. I don't know what that did to her and she could be in trouble..."

Meliodas shakes his head once. "From the sound of it, it was meant to shock into unconsciousness. I just doubled the effect when I sent it back to her."

Elizabeth presses her lips together eyeing the mage in the limited light. "We should get her upstairs and out of this cold, at least."

Meliodas retracts from her with wooden movements as he nods, his eyes becoming lackluster voids once more. Elizabeth brings her fingers to the ends of her hair fidgeting with the silky strands as Meliodas lifts Merlin over his shoulder and hauls her up the stairs. She follows behind him with stewing thoughts, eyes firmly on his back. Merlin said Meliodas was filled with a wealth of power, he displayed an ability she can't wrap her mind around, and a wrath that could destroy all in his path. Despite how close she desires to be with him, it's blatant that she doesn't know much about the demon. Regardless, he stopped when she asked and he's never hurt her.

She watches as Meliodas lowers Merlin to the cushion of a bed before turning to face her. Elizabeth jolts under his gaze, her cheeks flushing. "T-thank you."

Meliodas crosses the space between them and gathers her hand in his, instantly speeding her heart. "I'm just relieved you're okay." He admits hushed and seemingly at peace.

Beams of moonlight pierce the room from the sky light softly illuminating the two. His eyes stand out beneath his unruly bangs, quiet and thoughtful in their study as he carefully steps closer. Elizabeth is certain her heart is a thunderous racket throughout the room at this point, blooming her cheeks in red as her hand trembles in his in nerves. Nerves of what she's not certain. But she doesn't back away from his approach, never has since the day he caught her in the woods. And he comes closer still.

She can tell he's thinking of something in his mind, can tell he's deciding on how best to act as she gasps softly. And then she feels his warm breath tickle her skin, the sensation fluttering her belly as her knees wobble a smidge. He pauses only for a moment to place his hand on her waist. And then his lips press into her cheek warm and firm. Prickles zing outwards from the contact stuttering her heart as her eyes drift shut and she nearly swoons in his arms with a low hum. He holds her steady lavishing another kiss to her cheek further down and Elizabeth breathes his name shuddering. What is he doing to her? Moreover, why does she want him to continue and possibly never stop?

Meliodas presses his lips to her jaw, sucking slightly so as to sample the taste of her and sufficiently causing her knees to give out. She's sweet as butterscotch and incredibly addicting. He'd wanted to know what more could be felt from his lips on her skin and already he can tell Elizabeth is filling with an intense emotion that thickens her scent, drawing him closer. What he feels within himself is different than what he's used to, his hearts racing and that strange heating of blood from before. His hands move to better coil around her as she clutches at his chest and he unthinkingly rocks his hips into the soft space between her hips invoking a trail of fire up his spine as a noise peaks from his throat. Elizabeth's eyes are dilated and fixed on his face, the width of them showing her surprise at his sound and action.

Meliodas is still, uncertain of the numbing ice attempting to fight back his urge to hold Elizabeth close and simply _react_ -meaning this feeling is a hindrance, unnecessary and disruptive. But Meliodas doesn't want to give it up. Elizabeth looks sublime in the moonlight peering at him, curious and trusting as she slides her body up his and-

A pure aura slinks into his senses like an oily snake halting everything in place. It's as if he's dipped in the arctic, the change obviously visible to Elizabeth whose brows crease in alarm. She's his only warmth, his driving force as he kneels to lift her in his arms heightening her worry. Fighting for her is all that matters at the moment. "We have to leave now," he informs her as he takes a swift departure down the stairs and out the hole he made into the cool night.

"What?! What's happening?" She gasps into his skin as she hides her head from the wind of his speed, her hair blowing out behind them in his haste.

Merlin's home is a distance from the edge of Cain's town which is further from the forest than he'd like. Winding from the town, he feels too exposed in the grassy plains and he senses the power cut through the air a distance behind him. "I wasn't careful when I was searching for you. A goddess must've caught on and now he's trying to close the distance." He explains through clenched teeth, magic straining for any incoming attacks.

He expects Elizabeth to react in fear naturally, but she dissolves into full blown panic. Her body quakes in his hold testing his ability to keep her steady and she starts sniffling in frail tones his sensitive hearing catches over the wind. "They f-found me. I c-c-can't go back t-there. I can't. _I can't."_

His feet dig into the ground, his muscles bunching as his body twirls effortlessly out of the way of a sudden piercing magic that cracks the ground and illuminates the night in gold fleetingly. He's already leagues away from the impact a moment later and breaching the forest as his mind grasps the magnitude of her words-of what he should've already known. The pieces all fit together without effort. Her not knowing a thing about human customs, the pure crackle of magic that leaps out at him under the heavy shroud keeping her undetected, her being alive after all this time, it all makes sense. He was searching for her all this time.

Meliodas feels the goddess fly over the trees as he navigates the forest in search of Elizabeth's house. It's a sketchy plan, but he needs to put her down so he can fight. And he will fight for her. He doesn't care if the goddesses want her, he doesn't care if his father ordered him to find her. Whatever hidden agenda the god's have will be defied because he's not handing her over. Elizabeth is precious to him. She has a pull just as perpetual as his curse upon his soul and he won't lose her.

Her house comes into view and he stops before the door letting her down in a hurry. "Go inside, now." He pushes at her back not letting her hesitate.

When she disappears inside he moves to the glade standing as rigid and sharp as any weapon should be but using Elizabeth's tear stained face and broken voice to become more. The goddess is suddenly in front of him draped in white, eyes a piercing silver under spiked brown hair. His smile is sickeningly sweet. "Demon Prince Meliodas, how nice to be in your acquaintance this evening. It's unfortunate your lady couldn't join us..."

Meliodas remains still, his hands poised at his side. He may have left his sword, but he's far from defenseless.

The goddess tilts his head as a wind rushes by ruffling their clothes and hair. "What nothing to say?" The man inquires airily as if they're conversing casually.

But Meliodas knows he's fishing for information Meliodas isn't willing to divulge. "You came after me and that tells me you have a death wish. I'm happy to oblige." He states abrasive.

The goddess narrows his eyes, a sign of impatience. "Who is she? You were snooping around our facility so you must know what she looks like," his tone morphs into something accusatory dropping his sweet act.

Meliodas continues to gaze blankly at the goddess, inwardly satisfied at the goddess' spill of information. So they noticed him there after all. "I didn't actually learn of her appearance, just that you all are searching for her despite having sent me to do your bidding. The woman I have is a mere slave I find keeps my bed warm at night."

The goddess smirks as he lowers into a hunch. "You're lying! We know of your curse and bedding women would be of no such interest to you. Which means you're keeping her from us." Sinister laughter rolls through the night air as Meliodas feels a building rise in his chest. "Master Ludoshel will be pleased to know of the bitch's return by my hands!"

And that's when his power ignites in a roar that blazes forth raw and unbridled. " ** _You will not take her from me!_** " The ground rumbles and cracks, fissures racing forward in a jagged fashions, splitting open to give way to hissing surges of black pulsing flames that reach for the starlit sky. The goddess grits his teeth leaping up only for Meliodas to appear behind him, eyes swirling with severe intent, black markings spreading down his skin as his wings spread outwards massive and imposing, blotting out the moonlight behind him. The strike of his fist is quick and precise, caving in bones and rupturing organs as the goddess gargles a wet noise, blood spurting like a geyser from his gaping mouth.

The look in his silver eyes as he descends through the air trembles and screams his fear and desperation. Meliodas is callous towards it and watches without an ounce of reaction as the goddess lands into his flames. The goddess is unable to move or writhe out of the consuming heat as he makes strange inhuman screeches while his body is no doubt eaten away at a rapid pace. But even if he's not an overly powerful goddess, he's strong enough to live through the flames of purgatory and Meliodas grows tired of the stretch of burning flesh and feathers.

With a flick of his wrist a crooked spire juts from the ground impaling the the body with the wet crunch. Meliodas watches with fire dancing in his eyes. The body goes still, sinking slowly down the black spike dragging crimson sluggishly behind him, his eyes a glassy white and his skin charred with sticky blood, and utterly unrecognizable. Meliodas' power twisting in the cracks of the earth disperse as he lowers to the ground silently.

His shoulders slump. The current enemy is dead, but there's no way of knowing when the goddesses find out if they'll link it to him, if they suspect him harboring a woman, and if they'll jump to the same conclusion as this goddess. There's so many factors that he doesn't know the answer to, but on top of it all is keeping Elizabeth safe and finding out the whole truth about her.

Meliodas looks around Elizabeth's yard seeing the destruction that's happened upon it when just that afternoon it gleamed with beauty and memories. He closes his eyes promising to himself that one day it'll be restored to its glory and Elizabeth will be able to live there once more in peace. And then he sets his sights ahead making his way to her front door to take the first step to make that happen.


	8. Chapter 8

**~8~**

Every bone in her body told her to wait for him.

 _So why did she run?_

The moment her front door had closed behind her and she'd felt the goddess out there too familiar, much to familiar, her body had jolted with unrestrained terror. Her feet were running before she knew it, the back door slamming open and her unseen wings catching the wind in swift powerful beats to take her far, far away. The panic still burns like deep claws in her lungs wondering if the goddess of Meliodas will show up behind her at any moment.

Elizabeth chokes back a sob as her vision blurs, the wind pressing into her face sweeping her tears away effortlessly. She's not stupid, perhaps naive, but she put together his agenda as he ran her to safety. There's only one reason the goddesses would become involved with a demon: If Meliodas was searching for her, the goddess that escaped. She practically admitted that very thing to him in her fright and she knows he'll have no trouble figuring it out.

One town of buildings and people celebrating happily over one thing it another rushes beneath her as she thinks of Meliodas stalking towards her indifferent to her pleads. The moonlight displays her ashen visage brilliantly as she thinks of how unwilling she'd be able to fight his capture. Her skin is beyond numb in the gown around her frame, the chill sapping the feeling from her fingertips right down to her straining heart. Only a small whisper in her mind tries to fight it off as rolling hills stripped with rivers and valleys fly through her vision. _'He wouldn't hurt me.'_

Elizabeth jerks in the air, her wings momentarily losing their flow as she makes a despairing cry that twists like a knife in her gut. Of course he wouldn't. But would their fledgling of a friendship last through this deception? He was ordered to look for her. He promised she was okay because he wasn't after her. Elizabeth rubs her fists to the back of her eyes as she finds herself making excuse after excuse. She knew without being able to really gauge the true magnitude of their strength that Meliodas and the goddess would be distracted enough for her to flee. Elizabeth's wings push harder then pull in for a brief dive to land her near a rocky formation walled in by trees. Denying it any longer to herself would just be lying and she's pain awful at that.

"I was running away... from you," she croaks as her hand drags against the rock before she sinks to her bottom for a rest beyond weary.

Why does the idea of him knowing what she is frighten her enough to leave the burst of elation in seeing him, the quiet content in being by his side, and the pull of forever and always just looking into his eyes brings? The promise she made to help him? Elizabeth pulls her knees to her chest and trembles fighting back her regret. She will help him someday. There was something there within him that was undeniable. His curse may limit him severely, but she'll grow stronger to help him fight against it. That's what she wants to do. She wants to be strong enough to help where she can, but as she is...

Elizabeth stands on shaking limbs that steady with her resolve to move forward. "I know of a place where I can go to get help, I just reach there and when I'm stronger we'll see each other again, Meliodas," she whispers upon the breeze heartfelt.

Collecting an arm full of fruit, she heads into the opening of the rock where she intends to spend the night before heading out in the morning.

~.~.~

Her house is empty of warmth. She's not there. Meliodas swivels his gaze around repeatedly as if that will change the outcome he's come to a thousand times and it continues to remain the same. There's no angelic woman with tears in her eyes waiting for him there. His fingers twitch then curl, relax, tighten again and again as a cord winds around his ribs unendingly until he can't breathe. Meliodas' practiced stride is shaky as he goes through her living room to the very back of her home where a pull of silvery light guides him.

The back door is left ajar.

"Elizabeth?" His voice is quiet and wobbly as he steps outside feeling the effects of his pulse pumping more blood than his hearts can take. What happened to her?

He does not stay to find out, his black wings spreading to take him to the air where he searches for her scent in rushed pulls. It takes him a moment to realize that the smothered feeling in his lungs and the thunder of blood in his ears means he's once again afraid, but the frantic way he filters through the hundreds of smells lingering in the air knowing the wind can change at a moments notice and dwindle his chances is an added desperation.

A trickle in his senses and he shivers with relief, the emotions linked to her so sudden in appearance he's always thrown when they make themselves known. And dismayed when his father's curse forces them down to a pit where they're unreachable by his hands. It's when his thoughts aren't blazing by in panicked speeds that he notices something about the scent he tries to follow intently. It's alone. She wasn't taken. She went on her own.

Meliodas gazes blankly at the dark horizon as an odd ache twinges in his chest, steadily growing into a relentless pang. A hand presses over it absentmindedly wondering if he was wounded somehow, certainly that's the only way he'd feel so hurt. Gaze flicking over a town with an aloof bite Meliodas keeps as close to the scent as he can, spreading his magic outwards like a crawling fog hoping to ensnare the runaway goddess that eludes him.

"I'll find you, Elizabeth. You're my precious friend and... I need you." The words are stated in a detached manner, but Meliodas knows them to be utterly true.

Just passing the town the wind shifts blowing from behind and Meliodas' hearts stop. He halts mid air unable to breathe knowing what will happen if he does. Eyes widening he smells for her and finds the trail untraceable. His fingers curl into his palms so tightly his muscles cry in protest, the pain of his skin splitting apart and rivulets of blood dripping from between his fingers incomparable to the one welling in his chest.

He darts ahead recklessly, deciding to take a straight path as her scent trail had proven to be going beforehand, relying now on his eyes and power. The reality of not finding her is one he hadn't thought of and now struggles not to let become a fact. _'She left for a reason. Why? Was she afraid?'_ That's a logical conclusion, but why would she leave without _him?_

Meliodas nearly stumbles in his erratic speeds through the night still feeling for her as his mind hits on ideas that slither like viruses in his veins, wholly crippling even with the usual numb to keep him going. _'Was she afraid of me? Is that why she ran? Does she not trust me?'_ The thought hadn't occurred not once since he met her. Not when he was wild and she easily cleaned him of blood or when he chased her down and she combed her fingers through his hair. Not when he knocked on her door unannounced and she jumped into his arms or when she fell asleep in bed with him and curled into his side. She trusted him. Did he break that somehow?

Meliodas tenses his jaw against a raw swelling feeling in his throat as he flies past a forest, shaken with the thought. "I'll prove you can trust me, Elizabeth. As soon as I have you back, I'll prove myself to you however you want." He resolves gravely. He just prays he finds her first and not her own clan.

~.~.~

 _"Help her! Are you going to just sit there sniveling while she dies?!" The accusatory venom spouted at her only makes her tears pelt to the ground faster._

 _Her eyes stare helplessly at the woman's lips that tremble, once a healthy pink shifting into a draining blue. Her hands quake above the woman's chest attempting fruitlessly to drag her magic forth to do something to help. But every time she brushes the light luminance within it disperses with her bone deep terror. She pleads instead for the woman whose eyes are like crystal now fogging over like glass to stay awake, to not die. Choked, strangled sounds are her reward as her mind whirls dizzyingly with thoughts on why this is happening and why she can't stop it. She and the woman were just eating together that night like normal but then the woman fell over, convulsing, groaning strange sounds as her skin gained a sheen of sweat. And now..._

 _She presses her hands to the woman's chest terribly frightened as the erratic motions cease abruptly. Her pupils constrict as her tiny palms sense no thumping. "Where's her heartbeat...? Why isn't she... breathing?" She rasps as tears spill down her cheeks, her cerulean stare blank in gut knotting horror._

 _"You let her die," a mocking laugh of the man who stood and watched rolls forth. "I knew you were pitifully weak, but this is... No matter. When we're done with you, you'll be more than capable of aiding in our task." Is the sinister response she receives. Not a condolence, but a promise of further torment._

 _Her fingers curl into the silk material of the woman's shirt as desperation gnaws through her so keenly she's certain she breaks into shattered pieces. "Wake up," she shakes the unmoving body, her small voice twisting into something raw and shrill the more she pushes and realizes she truly and utterly failed. "Wake up! WAKE UP!"_

" ** _MAMA WAKE UP_**!" Elizabeth's eyes snap open yanking her from her night terror as her heart leaps frantic in her chest. She already feels the wetness on her cheeks and the pain twisting in her chest making it impossible to breathe. So when are sees two inky eyes gazing at her under wild bangs and feels the heat of his body hovering right above hers, she doesn't hesitate to throw herself at him intending to never let go.

Only she meets empty air, her body greeting the cold, unmoving stones of the floor in her reckless motion. Elizabeth lies there, legs drawing towards her chest as tears pool on the stones below her face. The stonewalls bear her heartfelt cries as all of her mistakes pelt down on her with the force of a waterfall. And she has to deal with it without the comfort of Meliodas.

"I did this so I would be strong enough to help. I'm doing this for him and I'm doing this for myself," she whispers hoarsely so as to bolster her will not to turn back and go running into his arms as she sorely wishes to.

Sniffing loudly as she pushes herself up, she smears tears on the back of her hands and looks to the opening of the rocks where sunlight bleeds in. Her body instantly quivers in urgent need of better clothing and Elizabeth makes a decision. "I need money for clothes and food if I'm going to make it there. I'm going to have to stop in the nearest town and hopefully solve my problems that way."

Lifting herself up then squeezing through the opening ahead, she peers around in caution only seeing the spread of trees and the sounds that accompany the waking of a forest. Flapping her wings she catches the wind and reorients herself according to the sun, grateful for Merlin teaching her how to tell directions in that way. Once certain she's heading south, she scouts the lands for the nearest clustering of humans.

~.~.~

Her feet pad across stone as she swivels her gaze around at all the new sights. Harsh salt fills the air and the stench of fish clings to buildings like a second skin. Bells sound loud in the distance causing her eyes to widen and her lips to round as she peers through the bustling people to what she can tell is a sea filled with wooden boats with massive sails of all sorts. It's like something she's seen kept in a glass bottle before. She wasn't sure why it was done, but it was pretty nonetheless. The real thing however holds a charm that draws excitement to one's chest.

She ambles further into the town of men with hardy tones and thick boots and women with curly hair and long thick dresses, wrapping her arms around herself to fight off a shiver from the breeze coming off the sea. It's not long before eyes start wandering towards her, some wide with curiosity, others thin with suspicion, and others linger in ways she can't describe. Elizabeth is however too concerned with her goal to pay them any mind, her hopes high on finding someone who will pay her to do something she's able to.

When her eyes catch sight of men in armor all gathered around a soup vendor with smells that rumble her stomach and set a displeased frown on her features, she decides to wander away from the gathering. Holy Knights are meant to protect the people from what she understands and if they notice a stranger like her entering town they might ask questions she doesn't feel comfortable giving answers to. Her abrupt turn however thrusts her into a woman's frame.

Elizabeth immediately steadies the startled woman and offers her apologies in a rushed breath, "I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there!"

The woman whose eyes are a sparkling green and whose hair is a surprising golden compared to the darker browns and auburns she's seen so far shakes her head as if to hold no hard feelings. "It's fine. You seem lost, like a rose amidst daisies. Plain easy to spot if you're looking. Are you in trouble, dear?" The gentle cadence reminds Elizabeth of that of a songbird's which instantly relaxes her.

Elizabeth nods slowly, letting her arms encircle herself like before. "Yes I... had to run away. Now I'm looking for a job to buy food and clothes so I can keep going." She admits softly, eyes turned down.

The woman places a hand on her shoulder and lowers her head enough so that she can catch Elizabeth's gaze again with a sweet smile. "Well I think I might be able to help you with that. My husband and I just let go of our maid. You can fill in for now until we find a permanent one."

Elizabeth lifts her head at the offer, eyes round, disbelieving of the words being said.

The woman goes on with a hearty grin. "Nothing too bad. Just cleaning the linen, serving tea, and watching our daughter, Chrysanthemum, when we're busy."

Elizabeth nods eagerly, cheeks dusting pink in her bright smile. "Yes! Thank you so much! I'll do my best!"

The woman nods with a twinkle in her gaze. "I have no doubts about that, miss...?"

"Elizabeth." She fills in as the woman guides them to the left side of town where vendors begin to taper off and homes start to spring up in droves.

"Right! Now let's get you into your uniform and food into your stomach before we start the day."

Elizabeth nearly sags with relief at those words.

~.~.~

The house she was lead into turned out to be one of the bigger ones in town. Elizabeth had tried not to show her intrigue at the various glass kept on display—she had no idea plates could be shown off in such ways! Ideas were already forming in her mind of how to do the same—and the gigantic anchor mounted on the living room wall.

The outfit she was fit into was a navy blue dress with puffy shoulders and skirt with a neat white frilly trim down the middle. She felt pretty and professional in it, and so much warmer! The woman was very kind to stuff Elizabeth with the leftover breakfast before showing her the linens that needed scrubbing which Elizabeth has been working on through the morning. The house is big and has much to clean, though Elizabeth doesn't mind. This type of work is similar to what she used to do when she was young only... with less prospect of bodily harm.

Legs tucked under her in the plush grass of their backyard, Elizabeth dunks a sheet under the sudsy water for the umpteenth time until the sunlight reflects off the the damp cloth a pearly white. Lips curving into a delighted grin she pulls the cloth up and throws it over a line strewn up where she makes sure to rinse it then squeeze it until her muscles burn and all the water is mostly drained from it. Leaving it to dry in the wind, she swipes a hand across her brow grateful she only has two more left when her gaze drifts to the backdoor.

A small figure darts back inside away from her gaze.

Elizabeth creases her brow and dries her hands on her apron deciding to finish the cleaning after checking on Chrysanthemum. The inside is silent and for a moment Elizabeth thinks the little girl is missing until Elizabeth rounds the corner where the dining room opens up into the kitchen where the small girl sits at the large round table. Elizabeth doesn't see the mother nor the farther around, whom she hasn't met yet, and so eases closer to the small one who kicks her tiny legs beneath the table, with a kind smile. "Where's your mother, Chrysanthemum?"

The girl with blond locks softly tousled around her head and cute pinchable cheeks has a spread of colors in glass and a piece of paper with a drawing she works steadily at. Her voice is very high yet tiny as she answers shyly, "Daddy came home and now Mommy and he are working on creating a gift! I asked for a sibling and they've been working on it for me for a while." She bounces in her seat at the idea briefly before calming as she smears a bit of paint on her drawing. "I was supposed to tell you, but I got nervous... Besides, I'm used to being by myself for an hour or two a day. See! I'm drawing this picture!" She chirps happily.

Elizabeth looks at what she's making and combs her fingers through Chrysanthemum's hair as soft as down at the sight of the forming family portrait. "This is very pretty! Why don't you continue this while I go check on something and then I'll join you?" Elizabeth suggests lightly as her thoughts roam to Chrysanthemum's earlier words.

"Okay!"

Elizabeth wanders back outside where the various linen blow lightly on the wind, the ends of her hair billowing out gently around her as well. Chrysanthemum said her mom and dad were working on creating a sibling for her. Elizabeth had no idea that's how it was done! The origin of children are still a mystery to her now only the fact that a man and a woman somehow make them. Her head turns up as a buzz in her chest arises. It's a strange sensation akin to a river of luminance trickling through her veins pleasant and warm. She almost gasps thinking she's sensing a being approaching her, but when she looks around there's no one but the wind and the seagulls floating through the air. But there's still a draw from within. No, a pull urging her to do something.

The window on the second floor catches her eye and her eyes gain a slight daze as the river within rushes faster. Her unseen wings spread pulling her up in the air and towards the window. Hovering just outside it, Elizabeth feels her heart pound against her ribs. Her eyes search through the low lighting of the room and spies the mother under the father on the bed. Her eyes round as she recalls the images from Merlin's workshop with stark clarity. Her mind doesn't even have time to process the possibilities before the rushing river within morphs into the roar of a waterfall and her skin positively prickles as she lets out a breath.

 _A mother who's prayed to the goddesses for a child._

 _Parents who have done good deeds for their blessing._

 _Goddesses who are uncaring of the pleads of their people._

Elizabeth blinks as the words flood her mind not her own causing her heart to beat even faster. Her hands come up to grip her chest. But instead she finds the magic within her pushing to the surface floating off the skin of her palms like glowing golden dust that dazzles her. She watches with rapt attention as it flutters from her hands like a wayward butterfly to the mother inside. And that's when her reflection stops her heart.

Golden speckles glimmer around her wings, massive and immaculate behind her back.

Elizabeth twists her body in horror only to quiver at seeing nothing there as it should be. Hand pressed to her chest she descends to the ground as her magic recedes to a small blip in her chest. Fingers curling in her uniform she shivers with wide fixed eyes. "What was that?"

"Elizabeth, where are you?"

The tiny voice snaps her out of her shaken state enough to realize she still has a job to do. Musing over strange thoughts and bursts of magic can happen later. Pushing off of her legs, she adorns a weary smile. "I'm coming, Chrysanthemum!"

~.~.~

Elizabeth pats the folded linen in the wooden basket one last time before carrying it inside. Dusk has blanketed the world and her job has reached its conclusion. The mother and father came down to attend to Chrysanthemum not long after Elizabeth started a new drawing with the little girl. It was hard not to observe how they interacted, her wish to understand and experience such relationships a deep one. One that made her heart weigh heavy in her chest and think of the demon she left behind. It was with these constricting feelings that caused her to throw herself into completing the rest of her takes with vigor.

Turning away from the basket of fresh clothes, Elizabeth smiles at the mother who takes ahold of her hand. When the chink of gold pieces meet her ears, Elizabeth feels her gaze soften in gratitude.

"You've done a wonderful job today, Elizabeth. Chrysanthemum said she enjoyed your company," the mother gushes brightly.

Elizabeth curls her fingers around the coins then places them in a pocket behind her apron. "Thank you! Today was great! But I must be going now." Her brows crease as her tone lowers.

"You don't have to leave just yet. We can afford to keep you for a while longer," the mother assures.

Elizabeth shakes her head, her eyes clouding in worry. "I should keep going." _'He might still be looking for me. And I'm not ready to be found just yet.'_

The mother nods slowly. "Well okay, just let me get you something first." Up the stairs she goes for a time before she comes down with a bag stuffed with items which she hands to Elizabeth. "These were my old clothes... Believe it or not, I was a noble, but gave that up to come here with my husband."

Elizabeth peers into the bag with round lips, "So these aren't maid's clothes?" Her tone is high with astonishment.

Surprisingly the mother laughs, "No, but I thought you could use a bit of help and they look so nice on you."

Elizabeth closes the bag as a warmth of happiness swells in her chest. "You're so nice! I want so much to make my friend this happy with such ease," she confesses without thought.

Green eyes blink before they crinkle at the edges. "I'm sure you do, Elizabeth. You're a fine young lady after all. Now get along before it gets too dark. Are you sure you don't want to wait until morning?"

Elizabeth shakes her head and slings the bag on her shoulder. "You're right. I should go now. Thanks again!"

Departing through the front door she catches sight of the moon glowing in the sky. The power of night is present like currents in the air, eluding her, yet she still feels drawn to the darkness that makes up the night, not fearing it. She thinks, as she wanders further from the shore and more towards the sloping hill at the back of town, that it must have something to do with Meliodas. Her lips curve weakly as her heart yearns. Has it really been a day already since she's seen him? Is she going to start taking count of them again?

Her shoulders sag just as a chill tingles up her spine keen and stomach knotting. She halts in her steps. Her hearing strains as her breathing stutters past her lips. Her eyes stare ahead but she hardly sees a thing, too busy trying to hear or feel what drew her attention. When the occasional rustling of leaves is the only sound that greets her, she goes still. Very jerkily she turns around.

Nothing but houses with warm glows in their windows.

Elizabeth exhales rigidly, her fingers tightening around the strap of the bag given to her. Something has her on edge like a spring ready to jump at any second. Her eyes widen drastically as she thinks of the goddesses having found her. She takes a step, prepared to risk darting into the air to flee her fears when a low admiring tone washes across her like an icy wave just behind her.

"Yes, you'll do just fine..."

Before air can even fill her lungs, a disabling bolt of magic surges throughout her being and all she knows is the calming void of obliviousness.


	9. Chapter 9

**~9~**

Three days have gone by since her disappearance and an entire town has been wiped off the map. The constriction around his chest and the pangs attacking his hearts had lit rage in his veins—or something different he couldn't quite give a name that was low, twisting, and wouldn't let up. And hasn't let up despite having watched an entire flourishing settlement cease being. He'd stood there staring without really seeing as his mind formed one question after another. _'Is this how she felt when I walked away from her that day? Can I even compare what I'm going through to what she has when I don't even have a clue?'_ Even if he doesn't know, what he does is that he wants Elizabeth by his side more than anything in that moment.

But instead he's forced to present himself before his father in the wake of his destruction.

He goes through the motions of folding his arms horizontal across his front and back in a bow, before rising to look through deteriorating form of the Demon King. An inhale gives him just enough air to sigh am in apathy, "May I ask why I'm here?"

"You're reckless destruction!" His father's voice thunders forward striking the walks which rumble internally. "I expect such actions from the others, but not you, Meliodas!"

Meliodas' gaze slowly focuses, his eyebrows lowering until his eyes gleam sharp and lethal. Something itches inside of him, wanting to break free of the draining pull and it emerges in the slight hiss of his words, "Oh really? I do recall a younger version of myself not having such issues with causing chaos if necessary."

The darkness surrounding his father seems to rustle and curl with agitation, the room swelling with a pressure to crush bones. But despite this the Demon King provides a breezy response one that tightens every muscle in Meliodas' body. "What's this I sense? An opportunity for us both it seems. I'm surprised this hasn't happened sooner given how willful of a child you were."

Meliodas stands rigid eyeing the darkness curling outwards reminiscent of storm clouds, ominous and thick, as his hair stands on end. His natural response is to fight back, to eliminate the threat as his own power surges through his veins. But even with his defenses seemingly impenetrable, his prowess enough to level all those in his path, his God holds an influence over him he's unskilled to defend against.

The curse within activates with the will of his father, paralyzing his movements, blurring his thoughts, and blotting out his vision for a time. It's like he's in a state of limbo just wandering through a vast void of nothingness. His feet tread through pools of shadows that numb him to his core. But he doesn't feel the sensation as he takes one dragging step after another mindlessly. He doesn't feel the heat charring at his flesh, he doesn't feel the cold jabbing at his lungs, icing over his hearts. There is nothing to see or hear as he moves in one direction. No purpose for his being in this vacuum.

And then he surfaces on his hands and knees with the boisterous rumblings of amused laughter in his ears. "That was positively delightful! You're emotions gave me a wondrous boost. I expect you to now have no mishaps in your task?"

Meliodas pushes himself up with the fluidity of a man led by strings. His words are bland, but firm, "I will not fail you."

The darkness rolls in the dimly lit room and Meliodas observers the hint of a smirk the Demon King wears with indifference, "Good. You are dismissed."

Meliodas turns from the demon— _My father_ , his mind provides the fact—and exits the throne room with a ruckus slam to the door. His boots drag him along while his mind reorients itself with detached facts of his life. He knows who he is, what's been done to him and what his goal is. The servants and workers of the castle give him a wide berth, not drawing his notice as he attempts to make sense of the oddities in his mind. His purpose of the moment is to capture the escaped goddess, but... Doesn't he know her?

His trek ahead becomes slower and slower until he stops altogether before a window that casts his frame in soft luminance. That girl—no, _goddess_ —from before with bright blue eyes and a lingering smile... hadn't she thanked him? Why would she do that to someone like him? His hands lift, fingers curling around the rough stone sill as he struggles to understand why he quivers in remembrance, why he'd never give up the memory of her scent or loveliness for anything.

And then he remembers meeting her again and the pull that persists between them with a simple touch, or a look, and her name falls brokenly off his lips. A hand rises to his chest and curls where there used to be a kindling of warmth, the place she cared for with a tender touch unknowingly, now is cold and barren. Meliodas' voice breaks above a whisper, "Elizabeth, are you still there? I can't... I can't feel you anymore." He stares impassively at his reflection where liquid drips down his cheeks from a crack that can't be numbed over by the claws of his curse. "I'll find you again and keep you close, okay? You won't have to worry about me leaving you again... I promise."

~.~.~

Deep green shirt open and slung over a black sleeveless which hangs casually over his green pants, Meliodas is certain he looks anything like the regal representation he presented to his father. The only thing remaining of that display is the sword and scabbard strapped to his back as he strides at a brisk pace through the woods alongside Cains town. He doesn't dare enter it however as the near abduction of their people have made them more than wary to strangers... and they might recall him being the one to set them free despite how swift he was in his actions.

There's only one place he's looking for regardless. His wild hunt had turned out fruitless and led to a town of people gone in a blink, so after giving things a more rational once over he came to a simple conclusion. The familiar house-neat with rose bush trimmings around it's perimeter-displaced from town looks as if nothing happened to it, what he'd expect from a mage. Luckily her aura is still present and she hasn't left just yet as they tend to on a whim for more knowledge.

Meliodas walks around to the front instead of barreling through the back and stares for a moment at the smooth white wooden door. When it opens without prompting, he walks in without pause, certain the mage knew of his presence by now. He halts in the living room noting the changes made from the small barely noticeable space it was before to the wide open well furnished area it is now. From the amount of space the interior of the house contains, one would never guess it belonged to the house seen from outside.

The woman-Merlin-drifts in through arched opening ahead dressed in a white clinging dress with a plunging neckline to display her ample cleavage. Her ruby colored lips curve with mystery over the rim of her cup of what smells like hazelnut tea as her golden eyes lock right on his. "What do I owe this visit, Meliodas Prince of Demons?"

Meliodas blinks slowly at her unfazed by her knowledge. "You know me?" He allows for her game anyway seeing the look in her eyes as one who likes to play them.

Merlin seats herself on a sofa, folding a leg over the other so her posture is more at ease. But Meliodas knows better. "You have certain defining features that anyone would catch onto if looking for them," she states in a direct tone.

He lowers his voice slightly, "Like Elizabeth?"

Her smile remains smooth, but her eyes gain a glass like edge as she places her tea down. "No. Elizabeth wouldn't know." She admits in a harsher tone.

His shoulders slacken a smidge. So she didn't run away because of that.

Merlin must have seen the change despite him being virtually unreadable otherwise because her lips thin. "Is that it? You wanted to make certain she didn't know who you are so you can continue to fool her?" The accusatory tone is accentuated by a raise of her eyebrow.

Meliodas casts his gaze to the side where the low sunlight shows the passing of time., or more like the wasting of it. "I'm not using her," he says simply and evenly.

"I have a hard time believing that to be true," she drawls luring his eyes back to the way she narrows her eyes critically in his direction. "Seeing as you're a big bad demon and she's a naive little human, I can't find any use you'd want with her... except one that is. It ends with you and her tangled in the sheets of her bed." She twirls her pointer around in the air to emphasize her words before questioning simply, "Are you going to tell me that wasn't your ultimate goal?"

Meliodas meets her eyes as his lips slowly split in a cruel grin that draws her up short. "I've played your games of misdirection long enough, Merlin. You and I both know what Elizabeth really is as well as what I'm supposedly after." He supplies in a cool tone.

Merlin rises from her seat, shoulders squared and eyebrows curved down over her eyes. "So you are intending to return her to her clan! Is that why her energy hasn't been to her home since that night?!"

Meliodas tilts his head expression remaining barbed. "Wrong again. I've already murderer a goddess who tried to take her from me. You don't want to get on my bad side like he did... You're only alive after all because Elizabeth told me not to kill you." Meliodas feels the words pour forth fueled by a mere ember of the livid wrath he experienced when Elizabeth was in peril. He knows what to say to get a reaction and how to say it to yield the proper response.

So when Merlin's skin goes ashen and her eyes tremble on his frame for just a split second with no answer he knows there's something more to the situation that he's seeing. "I see." She swallows turning her eyes away from his conforming his suspicions. "She ran away from you then?" Merlin inquires in a quiet docile tone.

Meliodas goes rigid, his expression smoothing as ambivalence overcomes his tongue. He reels off his words choppily as the emptiness within turns gnawing, "I n-need to find her-I don't k-know where she could have gone. Elizabeth is in danger." He closes his lips and squeezes his eyes shut picturing her face bruised and skin split with blood and how desperately he wishes to keep that-or anything worse-from ever happening again.

"So it's true about the curse then?" Merlin abruptly voices causing his eyes to open and fix on her. Her arms are crossed with one finger pressed to her chin. She's obviously still on edge from the crinkle around her eyes, but there's something in her smile that tells him she's fishing for something.

He doesn't answer.

"You really don't have a proper emotional capacity... and yet you're attached to Elizabeth." She muses aloud before her eyes fill with mirth as she points at him. "Despite you and my innocent friend not understanding a damn thing going on between you both, I can assure you she feels the same way about you." Merlin's tone shifts to something sympathetic as she lowers herself back into her sofa, "Which is why I feel it's all right to tell you where I think she may have gone."

Meliodas takes a handful of steps forward as his hearts strain. "Where?"

"In the south of Britannia to a druid sanctuary known as Istar. It's a place I told her of and suggested she visit to hone her powers, though she's always been reluctant."

Meliodas curls his fingers ready to depart right then and there, only Merlin's voice, low and hesitant, causes him pause. "Why?"

Merlin peers up at him with lips pressed tight. "The two that run the place are women. _Goddesses_ , that is. They've been in hiding since the "dark age" fell over their realm, and Elizabeth hasn't wanted to risk being recognized by anyone."

Meliodas feels his jaw tense and a knot contort his stomach, a clear sign of worry only Elizabeth can bring on. "I'll find her and bring her home safely, I swear it," he declares with a certainty as he imagines seeing her again. Will she smile in that way that calms him considerably? Will she let him hold her as she laughs and giggles, her fingers combing through his hair until he's no longer frozen inside?

Meliodas leaves Merlin's home making certain to find out and experience it for himself.

Merlin however watches the door shut behind him with an unreadable expression, a crease by her lips as she reaches for her tea cup. "I have no doubts in my mind, Meliodas of the Prophecy."

~.~.~

Pushing through the night was a brilliant idea as his power was ample and helped him cover great distance as a result. The warming colors in the sky and the gradually shed light to the fourth day of Elizabeth's disappearance. A weight grows in his stomach and ice pierces every nerve running through his body the longer he's away from her. He knows it's a response of some sort of distress and doesn't fight the inability to truly fill his lungs, knowing it won't help until he sees her safe and at his side.

The sunlight shimmers delicately over the lands which his eyes roam across for any hint of a druid altar. He regrets not asking for any description of what it might look like, but from his knowledge knows it to be most likely well hidden and away from people. He's done his best to fly away from villages and over forests, plains, and valleys, hoping to since a trickle of Elizabeth or a pure aura.

His body is worn thin from little rest and hardly any stops to eat with his muscles quivering from fatigue and his grip on his magic becoming flimsy as he drifts slower through the air. "Just a little longer and I'll take a break," he decides with a sluggish breath, seeing crags forming against the skyline the gray of the stone practically jumping into existence the closer he becomes. The only reason he decides to continue is because he has a strange sensation in his core like a thread gently tugging. He has no idea what it is and why it feels so frail.

The wind is mildly brisk with a hint of smoke which he notes as odd as that would mean someone would have burned something in the area recently. Though stretched thin he still rolls his power across the area like a smog as he nears the crags hoping to pick up any presence. Nothing catches his attention however as he lowers to the ground. The stones utterly dwarf him, forcing him to crane his neck back to even attempt to see their tops. Meliodas is unconcerned with this however as he spies piers of wood outside of the small opening where the burnt smell most likely originated.

The stones shift beneath his feet crunching loudly in the air as he approaches one with a critical eye. From the look of the soot gathered around he believes the fires were put out a few days prior. He inhales, sampling the scents in the air noting a various collection of acrid smells, able to pick up on the heinous intentions of humans even after the fact. One particular scent stands out stronger than the rest do to the heavy glaze of fear clinging to it.

A fresh field of flowers, a scent he could recognize through anything, resonates within and has him running towards the cramped opening in the stones with a cry of her name that rattles all the way to his bones. He knows she's not there however, he would have felt her. No one's been there for days. But he has to figure out why there's a frail pulse urging him there regardless.

The stones scrape his fingers and dig into his shoulders as he pushes forward with haggard breaths. The warm sunlight is abruptly absorbed by the bleak darkness as the squeezing stone amplifies his breathing. His teeth grit as he falls to his knees forced to crawl at the narrow tunnel seemingly endless. His calm is nowhere to be found as his world spins off track, one thought of panic steadily feeding into another. Elizabeth had to have gone through this, was forced to. And the dried coppery tinge in the air depicts images of her being dragged as the stone bit into her skin, her eyes wet with tears as her screams and pleads for them to let her go bounced off the very walls he's crawling through now.

The alarm that surged through him raw and jagged is something he believed his father to have banished, but it strikes hard and fierce, pushing him through the tunnel until he tumbles free on harsh rocks. Meliodas lies with his cheek pressed to the cool sensation as he struggles to rein in the feeling, taking one breath then two... His nostrils flare at the pungent pungent odor, keen and stomach churning greets his nose with enough force to make him recoil... and his hearts to race in frantic terror. He knows that smell...

Meliodas pushes himself backwards until his back collides with the wall, the fear within him so sharp he doesn't know what to do with himself. Except allow his gaze to fix ahead where the stench emanates. It takes a mere look at the spot where sunlight streams down from a sole opening for a choked sound to echo across the room. The frail pull within fades like a last breath as he sees her cold and rotting on the ground dried bloodstains splattered across the stones like a gory work of art.

His body quakes from head to toe, his eyes wide as he howls her name harrowing and shrill. His hands fly up to muffle his sounds of anguish, rivers springing free of his eyes that can't look away from her, _from Elizabeth_. He was cold, empty before, but as the looks at her now and into her eyes that were once so expressive and made his hearts jump and now don't see him and never will again, he honestly had no clue. She was always there, somewhere in the world. But now...

Meliodas weeps as he closes his eyes feeling the tears chill down his cheeks. "WHY?! Why did you take her?! Why d-did you have to t-take her from me?" His hoarse cries fade into feeble croaks as he looks to her again. His body sags as he sobs, finding it hard to let go-let go of the girl that was precious to him, the woman that meant more than he could put into words.

But the gods have already taken her from this world giving him no other choice.

~.~.~

Elizabeth opens her eyes to find her gaze crystal sharp with a shaft of sunlight pouring into her eyes. She doesn't find the need to look away instantly as her mind races through the pure horror of the man appearing behind her. She lets out a breath in relief thinking she must have escaped though her mind pulls up a blank on exactly how.

She goes to sit up when her ears perk at a sound. Her heart squeezes at the heart wrenching sobs that fill the room unendingly. Her instant response is to soothe whoever's hurting as best as she can. Body turning towards the sound she pauses at the sight of Meliodas of all beings curled against the stone, eyes more hollow than she's ever seen.

She barely hesitates however in running to his side knowing she hadn't wanted him to find her just yet, but would never leave him hurting so keenly. What could have done this to him. What could've made him feel this strongly when his curse made him nearly detached? Elizabeth falls to her knees beside him and throws her arms around him tightly.

It takes a second to realize there's no contact, there's no warmth. She hadn't even felt her knees impact with the ground. When she can't feel her heart speeding despite the rising fear in her veins she pulls away, opening her eyes with a trembling world escaping her throat, "W-what...?" Her breath catches in fright as she sees things through her quivering hands and even the rest of her body. "What's going on? _What's happening?!"_ Her voice pitches in desperation when Meliodas doesn't respond to her or acknowledge her as he always does.

Elizabeth pats herself down taking breaths she feels aren't needed, thinking the most likely cause for what's happening is some kind of magical experiment gone wrong. "That has to be it, right? What else could it be?" She sniffles peering hopelessly at Meliodas. That's when she sees his gaze fixed on where she woke up. This dredges to the question of why they're there as her eyes drift from him and why the place looks... eerily familiar.

Seeing her own dead body is more sobering than any shock of truth could be. Elizabeth becomes incredibly still her body slouched beside Meliodas' as her eyes stare unblinking at the ruined body on the ground, her wings being the only things not battered but tarnished by blood. Her chest inflates unnecessarily when she realizes she hasn't breathed for several moments to whisper somber, "I died." Her hands shake desperate to curl around Meliodas' beside her but simply sinking through it as she amends, "I was m-murdered." The images of how try to force themselves into her mind as she makes a frightened whimper.

"No, I don't want to remember! Not right now when I have to... I have to say goodbye don't I?" Her words crack in her throat as she turns her body to face Meliodas feeling her soul being rent at the fact. She's dead and he doesn't even know she's there still... And there's something inside like a flicker of a flame growing weaker by the second. Elizabeth wants to let the floodgates open and sob herself to sleep in his arms over this. She wants to deny it even happening with him so close as she memorizes the sway of his hair, the depth of his eyes, the angle of his jaw, and roundness of his cheeks, the little pieces that make up Meliodas that she was only just starting to discover. But more than anything she wants to calm him down and feel that pull between them one last time.

Elizabeth climbs over his lap hovering over him as her hands rest on the edge of his face not quite touching. Everything is forced down inside only allowing the deep wealth of affection for him soften her eyes. "Oh my dear Meliodas... I'm so sorry for putting you through this." She lets her fingers brush through his hair, unseen and unfelt, but she allows herself to believe his quieting tears are because of her touch. "I made a mistake in going on my own. But... B-But it'll be okay. _You'll_ be okay without me." Her voice flows quiet tender, and she swears his eyes look up and meet hers.

Her breath hitches around a forming knot in her throat as she holds his gaze. Elizabeth lowers her head to his as she struggles to hold on just a little bit longer. "Meliodas... I'll miss you, but.. you'll always have me with you..." Her head twists slightly enough for her to try and press her lips gently to his...

But a force unyielding and all powerful douses the flame within her, and Elizabeth feels as if she's dissolving into particles, fading so fast she doesn't have a moment to realize she's already gone.


End file.
